


Soul Mates (English)

by Mars_hylian



Category: Original Work, Soul's Fate (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-23 19:58:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 37,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2553701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mars_hylian/pseuds/Mars_hylian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan lives in a world where finding your soul mate is one of the most important things a person can do, but the system is not perfect and, of course, his luck does not make things easier. How could he have expected otherwise? It was obvious that it couldn’t get any worse; his soul mate resulted to be the guy who beats him every day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired on [this](http://theyellowtiewriter.tumblr.com/post/99865937843/zakuro-san-satinhands-plankt0n).  
> You can also find this work in [Spanish](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2603726/chapters/5800403).  
> On [Fanfiction.net](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11088026/1/Soul-Mates).  
> Special thanks to [Zakuro-san](http://zakuro-san.tumblr.com/), who created that lovely comic and is the inspiration for this story, and to [Emmyc](http://emmyc.tumblr.com/post/28881703056/), who started everything.  
> Oh, I recently found that Zakuro-san is planning to continue with their work, so I must clarify that this fanfic is external to the original story (well, only the first chapter isn't).

Dan couldn’t help but wonder why. Why should it be him? Was it because he wasn’t the prince all girls dreamt with? He could blame genetics, but he was sure his dad was already disappointed of him. Well, that usually happens when an ex-sports star has a nerd son. He was glad of being who he was, but sometimes he would wish to have the world on his hand and just clench the fist. Dan was no more than a little whim for _him_ , amusement packed on a short, skinny and weak boy. He was not quite sure what is what bullies do feel ruining the life of their victims, but he would swear he’d seen no more than satisfaction on the eyes of his. No more until that day.

It was after the regular session of bumps over his body. Dan was at the lockers room looking for a shirt clean of blood and grime. Already used to this, he tried to keep at least two changes of emergency clothing, but, as expected, he had no luck though there was the gym uniform. When he undressed his torso he could see a handful of new bruising all over his skin.

 _‘At least he didn’t break my nose this time,’_ he thought, putting some band-aids on the cuts on his face and shoulders.

The boy knew he should do something about it; he should tell someone, but he didn’t. He never did it. Why? The reason was unknown even for Dan himself. It was always the same. He was there, in a corner, letting _him_ , Eric was his name, hurt him. Trying to drop insults or defend himself was useless, it only made Eric angrier and that meant more pain for him. He didn’t remember when it started but he wished he could change it.

“Oh, my, my… Guess who is here,” a voice said behind him. Slowly, he turned his face, afraid of being right ‘cause he already knew the owner of that deep voice. Dan widened his eyes as he turned all the way around, stepping back until the cold metal of the lockers was against his bare skin.

"Sup, nerd~" The other sang. “Ready for another lesson?”

Eric came over, taking him by the hair, faces just at inches, his eyes with that wrathful expression and a mid grin. That was it, he was dead. Dan shut his eyes, prepared for the punch that was coming. He waited for an eternal instant, until he got the courage to open an eye and stare at Eric without understanding.

"….What the—" he said, looking at Dan’s chest. His face suddenly turned like snow.

“Huh?” Dan looked at his own chest too and found something completely impossible: a pale red light blazed at the fast rhythm of his heart beats, like the Christmas tree lights. _‘EHH?!’_

And then was when everything turned even more impossible. Eric’s chest was glowing too. They both stared at each other, now flushed.

"Y-Your chest, it—"

"Wait…NO—SHIT—"

"That means we’re—-"

“AW HELL NO!!” They said in unison.

 _‘This is not happening! He? My_ soul mate _?!’_ , Dan thought.

As fast as he could, Eric took his distance from him, until his back was against the opposite line of lockers. Then Dan saw something he had never seen on Eric’s eyes: shame, confusion, fear. Of course, those were over his own face too, but it wouldn’t be as intense as his.

“This isn’t real!” He yelled, pointing at Dan. “We can’t be…s-soul mates!”

“I agree. Why you?!”

The other made a bad face at his comment, clenching his teeth. “Huh?! Who would want to be yours, nerd?!” He said, suddenly offended.

“That’s not what I meant,” Dan tried, “but why the guy who punches my face every day!”

Eric covered his face, breathing deeply to calm himself until his heart beat got almost normal but it didn’t matter how much Dan tried, he couldn’t control his pounding heart. In the end, he was about to die, right?

“Hey, nerd... I won’t strike you again if you swear to keep this between us.” That moment Dan was physically unable to think clearly, less talking, so he just nodded as response. “Ok,” Eric continued, “but if I find you’ve said a word about this I’ll take your eyes off their orbits, understood?” Dan nodded violently. “Now, how the hell do I stop this?!” Eric asked, making his best to cover his glowing chest with those big hands.

So Dan’s face turned even redder if that was possible, and his heart was pounding so hard he thought he was about to faint. “I know how, but you won’t like the idea.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t care how, I’m not going outside this building with my chest like this… and neither you are.”

“Yes, but… to get that light off… a kiss is needed…” Dan sighed.

The room became incredibly tense and air went silent, as the walls seem to close over them. It was not like Dan wanted to kiss the only person in the world he hated, but he knew he couldn’t go out like that.

 It was not really a common situation, but, from time to time, any glowing chest people appeared on the streets and everyone started to laugh at them, knowing they were rejected by no one else that the person who was supposed to be at their side forever. Of course, the system was not law, though the most of society wanted to think that something like a soul mate really existed.

“No way,” said Eric.

“You sure? If we don’t, everyone is going to know, and I don’t think you want to live with that glowing chest forever, which I don’t, of course,” replied Dan.

Eric sighed heavily. “All right, but if you tell someone…”

“I know, man.”

So, slowly, Eric made his way to him with trembling knees. Dan could feel his heart was about to explode, and judging for his flashing chest, Eric’s was too. Suddenly, the boy felt fear running through his veins, as always he was about to get hurt. Eric bent over him, leaning all his weight with an arm on the lockers, and Dan found himself between a rock and a hard place. Eric started to get closer, really slowly but he got froze far before their lips touched. In a soft sigh, he said, “Man, I can’t do this, I’m not gay.”

Even if every fiber of his body refused it, Dan had to finish it. He wouldn’t live in shame just because his soul mate resulted to be a damned guy. So, after making sure he was still holding the shirt firmly with a hand, he craned forward in order to give Eric a fast kiss on the lips before running out. He wouldn’t stay to see the expression on the other’s face, but he was sure on his own face was nothing more than shame.

At the dark corridors of the empty school he saw the light of his chest dying, but his heart was not calmer at all, so he ran as fast as he could and didn’t stop until he reached home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to check the wonderful work of [Zakuro-san](http://zakuro-san.tumblr.com/), the main author.  
> I apologize if there's any mistake on this work. English is not my first language.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter ready!  
> It's a bit dramatic, but I hope you enjoy it. :)

**SAM_FROST:** DAN? DUDE, ARE YOU THERE?

 **DAN.T.:** SORRY, I’M HERE.

 **SAM_FROST:** WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU TODAY? I WAITED FOR YOU OUTSIDE THE SCHOOL AND YOU NEVER CAME… DON’T TELL ME THAT BASTARD HURT YOU AGAIN.

 **DAN.T.:** NO, NO, BUT I’VE GOTTA SOMETHING TO TELL YOU.

Dan felt quite bad about lying to his best friend, but Sam was kind of a hothead, so he would go and face Eric and definitely get hurt, and Dan didn’t want his friend to sacrifice for him again, just as always. It was not fair at all.

 **SAM_FROST:** IF IS NOT AN APOLOGY, I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT.

 **DAN.T.:** MORE THAN AN APOLOGY IS GOSSIP. AND I’M SURE YOU DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT, BUT I NEED TO TELL SOMEONE EVEN IF I’M NOT SUPPOSE TO. PLEASE.

 **SAM_FROST:** YOU? GOSSIP? THAT’S RARE! WHAT HAPPENED?

 **DAN.T:** I’VE FOUND IT.

 **SAM_FROST:** IT…?

 **DAN.T.:** I MEAN _IT_.

 **SAM_FROST:** IT? WAIT… _IT?!_ LIKE THE “S” WORD _IT_?!

 **DAN.T.:** YEAH.

 **SAM_FROST:** NO… YOU LIAR…

 **DAN.T.:** I MEAN IT, I’VE SAID.

 **SAM_FROST:** ARE YOU SERIOUS?! WHO IS IT?!

 **DAN.T.:** I DON’T KNOW IF TELLING YOU…

 **SAM_FROST:** YOU CAN’T TELL YOUR WHOLE LIFE BESTFRIEND? DO YOU WANT ME TO REMIND YOU ALL THOSE TIMES I’VE SUPPORT YOU WHEN YOU DIDN’T WANT MY HELP BUT YOU ACTUALLY NEEDED IT? WHAT A GOOD FRIEND I HAVE!

 **DAN.T.:** ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT. DON’T MAKE ME A SCENE.

 **SAM_FROST:** THAT’S HOW I LIKE IT. NOW, WHO IS IT?

 **DAN.T.:** … IS… KIND OF SHOCKING…

 **SAM_FROST:** WHY?

 **DAN.T.:** ‘CAUSE IS A GUY…

 **SAM_FROST:** …OH. WELL, IF IS THA-… **I DON’T CARE! WHO IS IT?**

 **DAN.T.:** THAT’S MORE SHOKING…

 **SAM_FROST:** DANTE RANDALL HENSON! WILL YOU MAKE ME GO TO YOUR HOUSE THIS LATE AT NIGHT?!

 **DAN.T:** FINE! JUST PREPPER YOURSELF, AND PROMISE ME YOU WON’T TELL A SINGLE SOUL!

 **SAM_FROST:** ROGER!

 **DAN.T.:**... ERIC RICHMOND.

Dan started to get upset as the time was running out and the usual immediate response of Sam didn’t pop up on his cell phone screen. It couldn’t have affected him that much, right? ‘ _Right?!_ ’

 **DAN.T.:** SAM?

 **SAM_FROST:** DON’T TELL ME YOU KISSED HIM.

 **DAN.T.:** I DIDN’T WANT, BUT I HAD TO.

 **SAM_FROST:** ………WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY ON YOUR FUNERAL?

 **DAN.T.:** SAM! DAMN YOU, HE WOULD HAVE ALREADY KILLED ME IF HE WOULD  WANTED TO.

 **SAM_FROST:** WHAT DO YOU MEAN? THAT HE ACTUALLY WAS AGREEING? THE DICK WHO IS ALWAYS BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF YOU WANTED TO KISS YOU?

 **DAN.T.:** I DON’T THINK HE WANTED IT. IN FACT, HE COULDN’T DO IT, SO IT WAS ME WHO KISSED HIM AND THEN RAN AWAY UNTIL GETTING HOME. IF HE WERE MAD, HE WOULD HAVE FOLLOWED ME AND, YOU KNOW, KILLED ME.

 **SAM_FROST:** OH.

And that was a sincere exclamation, Dan knew it. The next message didn’t take long to come up.

 **SAM_FROST:** SO… ARE YOU LIKE… DATING NOW?

 **DAN.T.:** WHAT?! NO! HE MADE ME SWEAR TO KEEP THIS SECRET OR HE WOULD TAKE MY EYES AWAY! I’M SURE HE WAS SERIOUS!

 **SAM_FROST:** OH. WHAT A BAD LUCK. YOU FINALLY FIND WHAT EVERYONE WANTS AND IT’S NOTHING MORE THAN A PSYCO. I’M SORRY FOR YOU.

 **DAN.T.:** YOU THINK SO? I MEAN, I HATE ERIC, BUT IF THIS MEANS HE’S NOT GOING TO HURT ME ANYMORE, IT’S FINE FOR ME.

 **SAM_FROST:** HE SAID THAT?

 **DAN.T.:** YEAH.

 **SAM_FROST:** AND YOU THINK HE’LL KEEP THAT PROMISE?

 

And he, indeed, kept his promise. All in Dan’s life was happiness for the next week. No more running out from school, feet that casually appeared in the middle of his way at lunch, balls from nowhere on gym class, trash on his schoolbag, letters on his locker or wounds on his body. He could finally present the art project without having to fix it randomly five minutes before and he could wear the same shirt for a whole day. Probably this of Eric being his soul mate was not that bad.

Or that’s what he thought until the weekend. For who knows why Zeus got mad at him and got him so sick he was absent for two days at school. When he got back, Eric was his partner on the Biology project.

“I’m so sorry,” said Sam. “I tried to deny it, but the teacher formed the groups and she insisted so much…”

“It’s OK, just don’t worry.” In the end, how bad could it be? Eric hadn’t been a bother at all since _that_ day.

So, there they were, Eric and him, stood in front of the counter of the biology lab with a bloody cow heart waiting for them on its silver tray. Dan's stomach churned furiously. The main task was inserting a shred of wire through the veins to check all the chambers and ducts of it, but the boy couldn’t even take it on his hand.

“Nerd, you’re such a coward…” commented Eric while snatching the tray from Dan’s hands and handing him his cell phone. “You take the photos.”

“Uh… OK.”

Dan was truly impressed. Eric, who had that rough personality, was incredibly delicate while cutting the muscle on a perfect longitudinal incision in order to make visible the insides of it. He even cut a bit more of the veins and identified the different valves, marking them with the little labels Dan had made with paper and chopsticks. He didn’t hesitate at all as rests of blood fell on the tray, over the counter and his lab coat, and he was smiling widely when he took the facemask away after finishing.

“Did you take everything?”

“I did, but…”

“But?” Eric raised an eyebrow.

“Is just… I got to admit you looked too happy cutting that heart in half.”

“I want to be a doctor.” Answered Eric, more like defending himself. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I already told you I wouldn’t hurt you again if you kept silent. Just because I’m not afraid of blood doesn’t mean I could kill you.”

“No?”

“Are you fucking serious?!” Eric looked indignant. So, Dan had reached his soul mate’s pride…

“No, right… Why a doctor?” Wait, when became so easy talking to a hated person?

“I dunno. I’ve always liked science and the human body functions. If I can, I’ll be the best surgeon of the country.”

“What do you mean with _if I can_? Just look the perfect cut you’ve made!” Huh? Why was Dan supporting Eric? Something was not right!

“You must know, nerd, medicine is not a cheap career.”

“Then apply to a scholarship.”

“That’s my plan. But well, why all that interest on me? I thought you hated me.”

“Well, what do we have here?” Asked the teacher, appearing from nowhere and making them both jump a little. “Wow! What a good cut!”

After sharing their project with the whole class, Dan started to feel a knot on his throat. It was like a lot of things were trapped there, accumulating, pressing from the inside, making even a little hard the simple task of breathing. Worried for the pale face Dan had, Sam suggested him to go to the nursing.

The boy made his way through the corridors in complete silence, even procuring not to bother the air with his footsteps; he needed a lot of silence to think. What had just happened? It was not like he could be friends with Eric, just… impossible! But even…

He stood in front of the nursing door. Just letting his body move by itself, Dan knocked over the wooden surface covered by a thin film of silicone, making it really smooth at the touch. Funny. His senses were so screwed up he was paying too much attention to details without any importance. His stomach seemed blended. He heard the nurse voice coming by the inside and opened the door slowly, smiling weakly at her but he couldn’t say a single word before fainting.

* * *

 

Eric found himself clenching his nails against the fabric of his sleeve, nervously. The day had been a complete mess since biology. He knew his mother would kill him when she saw all the blood splattered on his lab coat, but knew that was the last thing on the importance list. First of all: why did he tell the nerd about himself? And why that in particular? Everyone used to frown when he said he wanted to be a doctor. Why was it so strange?  Was there any problem on him wanting to lead a surgery, to save someone’s life by fixing their internal organs? Was it gross? What? What was it?! But… the nerd didn’t frown though it wasn’t a smile either. In fact, Eric couldn’t identify any expression on the nerd’s face. Surely he was surprised, but did he think Eric was crazy too? What did the nerd think about him? Didn’t he hate him? Then why he looked so interested? Why did he support Eric?

And there was the second and most important thing: Why was Eric craving so much about what the nerd thought of him? Did it have something to do with the soul mates issue? No, no, impossible.

‘ _I’m not… in love or something.’_

However, there was nothing like sentiments for the nerd on his heart, right? _‘Then why am I so afraid for my chest to start glowing again?!’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to check the wonderful work of [Zakuro-san](http://zakuro-san.tumblr.com/), the main author.  
> I apologize if there's any mistake on this work. English is not my first language.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings.  
> I'm posting this today 'cause I won't have time tomorrow, I deeply beg your pardon. This means you'll have to wait one day more for the fourth chapter.  
> However, I must thank everyone who has been following this story and supporting me with all those kind comments and kudos!  
> I hope you enjoy this update!

“Are you sure you can go home alone?”

The nurse had just insisted too much on calling his parents to come for him, but Dan didn’t want to bother them for something so stupid. He had just got dizzy, that was all.

“Don’t worry, ma’am, I live near here, so I’ll be completely fine,” Dan assured.

“Very well, boy, I’ll let you go. Be careful and take some rest. Don’t eat anything too heavy.”

Dan tried to make his way to the classroom again. Just one step in front another. His head still ached a bit, but there was just five minutes left of school, so he waited for Sam outside.

“Dan! Are you OK?” He said when he came out.

“I’m fine, just a bit dizzy. You know I’ve never liked blood.”

“I’ll take you home, then.”

“No. Your house is in the opposite direction and I know you have a date this afternoon. I’m fine,” he assured.

“Oh, c’mon, Dan, who cares all that? I’ll walk with you.”

“Yeah? Don’t you want to see your girlfriend? I’m sure she’ll be upset if you’re late. You know Joan isn’t a patient person.”

Sam just looked down at him. From all his six feet of height he exanimate deep into his eyes. Not even the glasses gave Dan protection from that intense look. Those were like two pale gray gems surveying into his soul. Sam kept silent for a moment, then sighed.

“Fine. I’ll call you later. Take care”. The boy just gave him his schoolbag and went away.

Sam was not blind. Though he was still too polite for commenting about it, he knew Dan good enough for knowing when he was lying. He obviously noticed those excuses where nothing more than a _I want to be alone_ proclamation. The boy felt bad for rejecting his friend’s help, but he needed to think about a lot of things.

_‘No, I don’t want to think about it.’_

Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left.

His steps were slow as he walked by the school corridors, going to the library.

The librarian, an old woman with big blue eyes and a crowed voice ruled over the place peacefully, keeping everyone silent, all books hide on its shelves, which shinned under the soft sunlight coming through the white curtains. She received the book Dan had come to return with trembling fingers.

“Is something wrong, young man?”

“Oh, no, Miss Minchin. Your book is in perfect state.”

“I’m not talking about the book. Are you OK?”

“Ah, yes, just a bit dizzy.”

“I think there’s something else,” she commented, wrinkling her already wrinkled forehead. As always, her eyes never missed one. She always knew, just as Sam, when he was lying, especially when it became to her books. But there was still a chance. He could play a fool for a while.

“No, miss, that’s all. I’ll take a new book, if you don’t mind”.

Quick, Dan made his way through the empty library to the shelves, on the fantasy section. Lately he had been interested on Jules Verne, and there was a lot of material to occupy his mind on the loneliness hours. Maybe he could take home more than one book… He ended up taking the most colorful three he could find, but the librarian didn’t allow him to take them all.

“You can book three for school, but just one to take home, young man.”

“OK,” he sighed, picking one randomly.

He gave her the volume and looked through the window while she marked the card and took the register. The sun was still shining, but some clouds threatened with a terrible storm that afternoon. He had to hurry up if he didn’t want to get caught with no umbrella. Miss Minchin would kill him if he got her book wet.

“It’s ready, young man”.

“Thank you very much,” he said before keeping the book on his school bag and run outside the building, well, as fast as he could with that aching head.

The wind was strong. It whistled on his ears and dragged leaves into his hair way too many times. When he was passing through the middle of the park, the rain started falling. As the drops of water started to make the floor slippery, Dan had to slow down his steps, getting wetter and wetter every second. _‘Great, dizzy and now, soaked. My day can’t be worse.’_

You’d think that a sixteen year old boy with terrible luck as Dan would had learned that saying a day can’t be worse, just makes it worse, but he didn’t had the luck of having a good memory either.

The temperature went to the floor and soon not just drops hit on his back, but hail that came as a curse from the skies. _‘Me and my big mouth…’_ All Dan could do was finding a place for refuge and pray for the rain to pass. He ran to hide in the porch of the nearest building, but even before he reached the last step, a huge piece of ice flew beside his face, causing him a big scratch on his left cheek and sending his glasses directly to the floor.

The boy looked at the double pair of people running across the street through the cracked lenses. Soon there was nobody to look at. Not even faces were peering on the windows to watch the massive destruction show. Notwithstanding, sometimes a brave person ran at full speed through the middle of the park, resting below the trees for a moment and resuming the march even faster. In fact, a woman reached at the porch Dan was resting, just to look at him for a single instant and start running again. Dan felt like he was the only person in the whole city who was staying at just one place; in the end, he wouldn’t reach too far with those broken glasses. For him, coming out of his refuge was committing suicide.

Suddenly,Dan heard a whistled melody seeping into raindrops and ice, and a big red umbrella appeared turning the corner. He knew exactly that whistled melody, as clearly as every day after school, coming from the empty corridors. A song of misery, an omen of death.

“Eric?” He asked as the unknown was closer. The boy looked up at him.

“Eh? Nerd! I find you even in the soup! Are you stalking me?” asked Eric, still under the rain curtain.

“What?! If someone stalks here, is you!”

“Oh… Perhaps you’re looking for a lesson?” Eric raised a fist. Dan just crossed his arms and looks to the side. “Hey, what happened to your cheek?” Eric asked, pointing at his own face. _‘Unacceptable.’_

“This? A piece of ice. Not even my glasses where save…” he sighed, but soon switched to a harsher tone. “So, if you want to punch me, right now is a good moment, I wouldn’t see your fist coming to dodge it.”

“What a sharp tongue,” the other commented “…and I was about to offer you a walk under my umbrella, but if you don’t want…”

“Eh? Why would you lend me your umbrella?” Dan was perplexed. What happened to the rough bully?

“I don’t know, just felt like it. You might live near, right? But, well, you can wait for the rain to stop. Bye.” Eric started walking again. To hear the “Wait!” coming from the boy’s mouth didn’t have to step twice. Eric raised the umbrella a bit, inviting him to come. A few seconds later, Dan was walking at his side, making his best not to touch him.

“So, where do you live, nerd? I didn’t know our houses where on the same neighborhood.”

“A few blocks from here,” said Dan, pointing forward and ignoring the comment. They kept walking silently for some minutes, trying not to die in the middle of that ice bombing.

Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left.

“Why…?” mumbled Dan, more for himself than the boy beside him.

“Did you say something, nerd? Speak louder.”

“Why are you being so kind with me?”

“Why, you ask... I don’t know, just felt like it” Eric shrugged.

“You already said that,” replied Dan.

“I have nothing else to say. Don’t be ungrateful and just accept my kindness, I don’t go spreading it every day.”

“I know. Thank you, but I still wonder why.” Dan just was unaware of everything at that moment but the fact the only person with him on the empty streets were the bully who had been attacking him every day for years, just offering to take him home when he needed it more. He was sure he would have rejected the offer if he wasn’t still a little dizzy.

“I wonder too.” Dan looked up at Eric, who just avoided his gaze, but trapped him just in time to avert him off a big ice mace’s trajectory that would have hit him right on the stomach. “Hell! Would you be more careful?!.” Eric spoke harshly, as he usually did, but not getting the boy calmer.This time, he had left the nerd out.

Dan hadn’t been more surprised in his whole life. He couldn’t tell if it was because there was hail on May, because the person he supposedly hated was helping him, or because of the fact his heart was pounding even harder than when his chest was glowing in front of the same person, but he was certainly surprised. “S-Sorry. I already told you I can’t see without my glasses”.

This time, was Dan who heard mumbling from the other’s mouth. “Sorry, what?”

“I was asking if you… Do you hate me?”

“Why do you ask me that? You’ve made more injuries over my body in two years than my bad luck in sixteen!”

_‘But... no.’_

“Do you want to be abandoned here, louse? That would put an end over my problems, you know.”

“DON’T LEAVE ME HERE! I……I don’t know. I’ve had no time to think about it lately,” he claimed lightly.

“Oh, I see.” Was it disappointment on his voice?

Dan couldn’t help but asking the same. He wouldn’t have another chance like this. “And you? Do you hate _me_?”

“No, I guess… I don’t.”

“No? Then why did you hit me every day? I’ve been wondering if I had done something to you.”

“You haven’t… Don’t worry about it since I won’t do it again.” Shame, maybe?

The boy thanked Eric properly when they reached his home and waved his hand. From the distance he heard the tall boy shouting “Don’t tell anyone about this or you’ll regret it!” But he just feigned ignorance and slipped the right key on the door lock.

Later that afternoon, locked on his room, Dan opened the book he had taken from the library and a paper slipped from between its pages. When he picked it up, he found a single phrase written in stylized calligraphy that prayed: _Don’t be afraid of love._

Miss Minchin never missed one…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to check the wonderful work of [Zakuro-san](http://zakuro-san.tumblr.com/), the main author.  
> I apologize if there's any mistake on this work. English is not my first language.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm deeply sorry for not updating this on time, but I was really busy last week and had a lot of doubts about this chapter. However, I made my best and hope you enjoy it. It would be my pleasure to read any of your reviews, so feel free of commenting. ;)

Dan heard the front door closing and cringed on the couch. Why now? _‘Quickly, smile,’_ he thought, wiping that single tear off his scratched cheek. The salty water and the rough sensation of his thick wool sweater’s sleeve made the light wound get crimson and burn, even if there was no blood sprouting from it.

His father walked along the hall without looking at him, distracted on his thoughts. He seemed stressed and really tired, as always his team had lost a game. In the end, Basketball was all in his life, over his lovely wife, over his health, his personal problems and even over the air he breathed but never over his only child. It was true he was quite disgusted because Dan wasn't part of his world on the court, nevertheless he loved him anyways.

“Good night, dad,” Dan called, making him jump.

“Dan! Sorry, I didn’t see you. Good night,” the man answered, walking back over his steps and leaning on the couch. He immediately noticed the injuries on his son’s face.

“What happened?”

“Oh, just a memory of today’s hail. It’s really nothing.” The boy moved away the hand that was already inspecting on his sore skin.

“Do you want ice for that?”

“It was ice what caused it.”

His father frowned. “Don’t discuss me, youngster. Does it hurt?”

“A bit,” he decided to say after a moment. He couldn’t lie to his father, not about this when he was already lying to him since two years ago; because James Henson never heard about such a thing like his son was being molested, and that was how things should continue being, even now everything was over.

The man gave him some ice cubes packed into a towel and told him to eat something before going upstairs and just never comeback until next morning. Dan never knew how to feel about his father. He loved him, and always tried to be kind to him, but the man never spent too much time in home, so there was always a little vacuum on the boy’s heart, impossible to fill.

The tears mixed with melted ice fell over his knees.

Why was he so depressed? He remembered sitting down on the couch that afternoon to read when, suddenly, he found himself wiping teardrops off the pages. He felt confused, he felt angry, he felt weak. A single word was about to escape out of his lips, and he made a terrible effort to keep it in, even if that brought suffering and pain to his pounding heart. He was aware that if he allowed himself to pronounce that word, that _name_ , he would never be able to stop himself. That meant pushing his whole life on something silly enough to be rational, like destiny, throwing everything over his shoulder and hope for it to fall on the right place.

“This can’t be…”

His cheek was red. No matter how much he waited for it to warm up again, it was frozen, thought, red. His face didn’t ache anymore but his chest felt like bleeding. The boy’s will was weak; the shield had already been cracked. With empty lungs, he gave up and vocalized the word silently, letting his tongue slide softly along vowels and consonants, whispering his name when no one could hear it.

_‘…Eric…’_

Mourn no more, he fell asleep on the couch.

Dan woke up in the middle of the night with a terrible pain on his back and neck. He picked up his cracked glasses from the floor, then, made his way through the gloomy house to his room. Without turning on any light, he changed into his pajamas and got inside the covers of the bed. As soon as he felt the softness of the pillow against his hurt cheek, he slipped his hand under it, looking for more comfort, yet what he found was the unwanted paper the librarian had sent to him. Resigned, the boy dreamt while clinging the sheet against his chest.

* * *

 

Nine streets away, Eric was laying on his bed. Well, more specifically, his torso and legs rested on the bed and his head was hanging over the edge, looking at the door upside down. He had been like that for some minutes, so his brain had already started protesting because of the blood pressure. Eric ignored the sensation and crossed his arms over his chest, squeezing the air from his rib cage.

The boy hold his breath as his eyes went closed and an immediate image appeared recorded on his corneas. On the darkness of his eyelids the nerd's eyes shone while his thin lips curved forming the question Eric himself had already asked. _Do you hate me?_ Eric felt like those words were needles sinking into his chest, breaking through skin and bones and reaching his heart, but it couldn’t bleed a single drop. The image changed, quivering under Eric’s shadow, protecting itself with those thin, weak arms like every time he resolved that punching the nerd was the best way to finish with his problems. The boy articulated an apology on a feeble whisper.

_‘Since when… do I feel like this?’_

After spending a sleepless night, Eric had quite a few things clear on his mind. First, he was not prideful enough to keep playing his rough bully roll on this drama. Now that he understood the impulse of his actions against the nerd —no, against Dante—, he concluded how stupid he had been and that annoyed him to unexpected levels; second, he owed the boy an apology because of the trouble he had caused for such an irrational reason; third, he could do nothing to change the fact that Dante (a guy) was his soul mate; fourth, there were things like sentiments for that guy on his heart; and last but not least, he was not confessing, however he promised himself to never hurt him again. Even if Dante hated him, even if he knew he couldn’t reach heaven, he would try to be nice and redeem his sins.

While he walked to the school, he made his best to collect all the courage he could to face the nerd and apologize.  Along the way, Eric was looking around, trying to find the boy and put an end on this as soon as possible. Therefore, when he reached the now destroyed park, he looked at his watch. It was early yet, in fact, the students had a good hour to start class, so Eric removed the leaves and twigs off a bench and sat there, listening to the nature waking up around him.

The wind was a bit cold touching his face and got his cheeks and nose covered with a light dusting of pink. In a moment, he was thinking again, revising mentally the speech he had already prepared. He sighed. The words were so fucking entangled in order to not revealing his feelings, that he started doubting Dan could understand it completely. Eric bite his lower lip.

_‘I can’t tell him that… he’ll know something is wrong or ask me to repeat it…’_

He waited a bit longer until deciding it was stupid to wait for him in there. They still had a whole day at school to talk. He walked along the anymore empty streets, without life, at a slow pace, leisurely, taking all the time he could until reaching the white, noisy and full building which constituted the Allen Wright High School. The class was about to start when Eric broke through the crowd and reached his locker of the top row. With huge indifference, he began to empty his schoolbag and keep the books he would need along the day. Almost mechanically, leaving a book, picking up another, concentrating only on the vague action of closing a hand over the spine and letting it fall on its respective place, again and again.

When he was about to leave, something on the floor attracted his attention. A small packet with his name was looking back at him. It might have fallen from the locker before he knew it. He picked it up, opened it and looked at it so absorbed, examining each one of the words written fluently with bright blue ink, that when he looked around, he found only with himself on the corridors.

He ran to the classroom and begged the teacher to let him come in. The man did it, remembering him the retardation, and the boy sat on the last line of chairs, without paying attention to a single word of the lesson.

_‘This is stupid, but I feel loved…’_

A smile got drawn over his face and denied to let him go, even when the teacher started to shout that if his class was so funny he should, please, share the joke with his mates, that how was it possible, he was late and now distracted, looking through the window as an idiot.

“Are you in love, Richmond?”

Eric, as much, reacted to look back at the gray mustache’s man and smirk, as evil as he could. “I think so, Mr. Phelps. I’m sorry for disturbing your class,” he said. The teacher went slightly pale, not knowing what to say, so he just cleared his throat and quiet the murmurs of the students around.

The boy ignored his classmates and the teacher, who came back to the board, and closed his eyes for a moment, visualizing that perfect _I don’t hate you, so…_

So… What did that “so” meant? It didn’t matter right now. Dante didn’t hate him. Nothing could be better that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to check the wonderful work of [Zakuro-san](http://zakuro-san.tumblr.com/), the main author.  
> I apologize if there's any mistake on this work. English is not my first language.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY! I'm afraid to say I won't be updating the Spanish version on time. I'm sorry. It will be available tomorrow or on Thursday.  
> Please, stay safe and wait for it ;)

Eric felt so happy when he got that letter, but Dante, in the other hand felt so ashamed and nervous he was at the point of being miserable. Sam patted his back to cheer him up. “Hey, the dude looked too happy reading that letter. Don’t worry. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Yes, but…” Sam raised an eyebrow. “What if he rejects me?”

“Reject you? What are you talking about?! He’s dying of love sickness! What did you wrote there for him to make such an idiotic face?”

“I don’t hate you, so…” Dan recited, pointing together the tips of his index fingers and looking at his feet. Sam’s face had no expression to be read. “Only that?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“Dan, dude, you’re such a dork… I THOUGHT YOU HAD ALREADY CONFESSED!” He exclaimed, stabbing his mashed potatoes with a fork. Everyone in the cafeteria looked at them.

Seeing Dan’s reaction he lowered his voice but didn’t stop with the harsh tone “I didn’t spy him this morning for those five shitty words! I even was late to chemistry!”

“I’m sorry, Sam. I owe you another one…”

The taller boy sighed in pure frustration. He carded a hand in his blond hair and took the fork out the potatoes. “I guess you do… How will I be paid?”

Dan tried to keep the conversation going. Maybe Sam was right, but there was still the high possibility his feelings were spilling out too fast.  _‘I just figured this out last night and I’m already thinking he won’t accept me… Set down right now, Dante. You don’t even know if he will see you as a friend! Content your love a bit! ...But… in the end, we’re soul mates…Even if neither of us is gay…Could I love him at least a bit?’_

When the boys were about to leave the table, a girl packed in a bright pink shirt appeared smiling widely. Her blond hair was braided to the side of her head and her decorated nails shone when she gave them two invitations.

“I’m giving a party this Friday before the final exams, so I will be pleased if you both go. You can take whoever you want!” The girl disappeared as fast as she came and they watched her boney back walking away.

“Who was that?” Dante asked, opening the card.

“Masae Jones? A popular?”

“Really? If she’s a popular girl then why did she invited us to her party?”

“I dunno, bro,” Sam shrugged, “but it looks like she invited the whole school…” Indeed, all students around them had one of those cheesy pink and perfumed cards. “However, will you go?”

“Ugh, I won’t, man, you know I’m not a crowd’s person.” Dante just limited to push his non-existent glasses up his nose and sigh. “And with no glasses, I’ll definitely mess up everything in there.”

Sam put his arm around his friend’s shoulders and leaded him through the corridor. “That… might be true. When will they be back?”

“I had to order a new pair to the shop. They will took at least a week.”

“Well, that sucks. You know, I don’t mind lending you my notes, but will you be alright?”

“Sam, I might be nearsighted, but I can manage living. I just can’t read well, that’s all,” he said looking at the blurry form that was his friend.

Dante tried to make his best on class. Not seeing clearly was really annoying and he knew he was overexerting his eyes, so he decided to just close them and listen to what the teacher said. Of course, he fell asleep. Sam, sat in front of him, moved in order to hide him from the teacher.  _‘Poor guy. Loving Eric Richmond must be exhausting.’_

When the bell finally rang, they walked out from the classroom. “Okay, I’m walking home with you today. I don’t care what you say,” Sam said, taking a firm grip on his friend’s shoulder.

“Fine, fine. But let’s go to the library first. I have to return a book.”

The librarian looked up at him with a tiny smile. She took the book from the boy’s hand with shiny eyes. “You finished already? Splendorous!”

“Oh no, miss. My glasses broke, so I can’t read until I get a new pair. I’ll come back for it the next week.”

“Hum… what a shame, young man. Well, I’ll keep this for you,” and crossing her hands over the desk she said in a low voice; on her face a mischievous smirk: “By the way, did you get my note?”

Dante’s cheeks went crimson red and he cleared his throat nervously. “Ah, yeah. Thank you, miss.” Not waiting for her answer, he smiled back for a moment and walked away, almost running out of there. Once he got out, he reposed over the closed door and sighed. He looked up at Sam, who waited for him there and just shook his head, telling him not to ask.

They walked down the stairs slowly (Dante almost died in the process) and out the building. The fresh spring air was a blessing that afternoon. The sun was shining in the sky, getting closer to the west, but far yet from the horizon. Everything seemed to glow outside the white and monotone walls. The world was in perfect harmony… until they reached the principal gate. Sam saw his shape first, waiting outside. It looked exactly like he had seen it many times before, but right now, the boy greeted them with a tiny smile instead the usual mid grin he used to wear.

“Hey.”

“Eric?” Dante was confused, so was Sam. The taller boy cleared his throat and started walking away, knowing what was this all about “Okay, see you tomorrow, guys.” He shot one more glance to Eric.

“Eh? Wait, Sam!”

The boy only waived his hand without turning around. Soon, he was nowhere to be seen. Dante had no time to miss the growing rasping sound in Eric’s throat when he felt a hand clenching over his shoulder “ _Nerd?_ ” He growled “Does Blondy know something he shouldn’t?” The grip tightened. “Perhaps you don’t want to see anymore?”

Dan stepped back, but Eric wouldn’t let him go so easily. “Ah, y—you know… I…” The small group of students that where around was staring at them with interest; a plea for the show was shouted in the distance. With a click of tongue, Eric grabbed him by an arm and practically dragged him out the school. When they stopped, they were on the park of their neighborhood. He turned around and grabbed Dante’s shirt collar, and the shorter boy panicked. “Fine, fine. It’s true. I told him what happened, but he would never tell anyone. He’s my best friend and I would trust him my life, please just don’t hurt him. I know I broke the promise but I needed to—”

“Whatever,” Eric interrupted. He let the boy go and crossed his arms, looking away. “I didn’t come here to beat you anyways.”

“No?”

“No. I wanted… well, I think I owe you an apology for what I’ve done to you. It was not fair at all. I’ve been an asshole, so… yeah, sorry.”

Dante couldn’t find any words to say. That moment he could only be aware of the tickling sensation in his stomach and the blurry form of his soul mate fading in the sunlight. “A—Ah, yeah. It’s fine, I guess.” Eric doubted Dante was even listening to him, but he didn’t feel like repeating it.

“So…”

“So?”

“The note. What does that  _so_ mean?”

The shorter boy stopped dead in his tracks, dreaming no more. Once again he tried to hide behind the glasses that weren’t there to dissimulate his intense flush. “Ah… that.” A nervous laugh fell from his lips. Eric raised an eyebrow Dante couldn’t see. “W—well, that depends on you…”

“How’s that?”

“I’m saying… it means whatever you want it to mean…”

A wave of panic ran through Eric’s eyes as his cheeks got colored in light pink.  _‘Shit. What have he just said?!’_  He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again while both of them died of embarrassment.  _‘The fuck! SAY SOMETHING!’_

“Friends! What if we become friends?”

Dante panicked too. “Sure! Let’s be friends! Now, I gotta go. See ya!”

So, they ended up running away from each other with a strange sensation on their chest that couldn’t be defined as joy or disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of starting to feel sorry for Dan. The only cause of his suffering is me and just me... I'm sorry!
> 
> Remember to check the wonderful work of [Zakuro-san](http://zakuro-san.tumblr.com/), the main author.  
> I apologize if there's any mistake on this work. English is not my first language.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRITSMAS! <3

Pretty late into Friday’s night (in fact it was almost Saturday) the message tone woke Dan from a tight sleep. Without any kind of zest, the boy stretched an arm and inspected his phone. With annoyance, he realized it was Sam. _‘He knows I hate being waked up…’_

 **SAM_FROST:** DAN! I’M BRINGING BAD NEWS…

 **DAN.T.:** WHATS WRONG? I WAS SLEEPIN!

 **SAM_FROST:** NOTICEABLE, MR. BAD SPELLING.

 **DAN.T.:** IM NOT IN THE MOOD. WHAT HAPPENS?

 **SAM_FROST:** I’M GETTING BALD!

 **DAN.T.:** GOOD NIGHT, SAM.

 **SAM_FROST:** NO, NO! WAIT!

 **SAM_FROST:** SOMETHING REALLY HAPPENS.

 **SAM_FROST:** DAN?

 **SAM_FROST:** I WON’T FORGIVE YOU IF YOU’RE IGNORING ME!

 **DAN.T.:** WHO HAS SOMETHING TO FORGIVE IS ME. TELL ME ALREADY WHAT YOU WANT OR I’LL TURN OFF MY PHONE.

Immediately, the boy got a picture which looked at first glance showed a crazy and filled of alcohol party in a house of people with lots of money and lack of consideration for the neighbors. The room was dark, smoky and teens dancing illuminated by the colorful lights everywhere. Stood out from the crowd, by the way, two people, two guys, leaned at a lateral wall, one drinking from a red plastic glass, a gloomy expression; the taller laughing widely, in a hand a drink, in the other, his partner’s waist. After inspecting the picture for a minute, Dan could recognize the distinctive spiky hair of his soul mate on the shorter boy. Now he was completely awake.

 **DAN.T.:** WHO IS THE GUY ALONGSIDE ERIC?

 **SAM_FROST:** NOT HAVE TO MINCE WORDS, EH?

 **SAM_FROST:** AS I WAS TOLD, HE’S A JUNIOR, AND YEAH, HE’S GAY.

 **SAM_FROST:** I DON’T KNOW IF THIS MEANS SOMETHING, ‘CAUSE HE’S CLEARLY DRUNK AS BALLS.

 **DAN.T.:** SO WHAT WITH ME?

 **SAM_FROST:** EXCUSE ME?!

 **SAM_FROST:** WHO ARE YOU?

 **DAN.T.:** TCH. I’VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT, SAM. ERIC AND I HAVE NOTHING MORE THAN A SUPOSED TWO DAYS OLD FRIENDSHIP. IF HE WANTS TO DATE SOMEONE, WHO AM I TO STOP HIM?

 **SAM_FROST:** OH GOD! ERIC HAD JUST PUNCHED HIM IN THE FACE! I THINK HE BROKE HIS NOSE!

 **DAN.T.:** DON’T JOKE, SAM, IF YOU WANT TO CHEER ME UP.

 **SAM_FROST:** I MEAN IT, IDIOT.

This time he got a video. A circle of people gathered along the wall. The image of the unknown guy writhed on the floor with the hands spattered of blood, which was running down a jet from the broken nose, staining the carpet. Some girl picked him up and took him out from the room while the audience was puzzled.

 **SAM_FROST:** DO YOU SEE IT?

 **DAN.T.:** A BIT BLURRY, BUT I SEE IT! (O_O).

 **SAM_FROST:** ERIC JUST WENT AWAY. HE ALMOST BREAKS THE DOOR, I’D SAID.

 **DAN.T.:** BUT WHAT HAPPENED?

 **SAM_FROST:** I CAN’T TELL WHAT HE WAS TELLING HIM, BUT IT MADE HIM REALLY ANGRY. ERIC THREATENED HIM AND THEN HIT HIM.

 **SAM_FROST:** SORRY FOR WAKING YOU UP...

 **DAN.T.:** MATTERS NO MORE, I GUESS.

 **SAM_FROST:** NOW YOU KNOW ERIC WOULDN’T CHEAT YOU WITH ANYONE ;)

 **DAN.T.:** I ALREADY TOLD YOU, SAM. EVEN IF I LIKE HIM, WE HAVE NOTHING.

 **SAM_FROST:** I DON’T THINK THAT “NOTHING” LASTS LONG.

 **DAN.T.:**... I HOPE SO...

 **DAN.T.:** I’LL COME BACK TO SLEEP. DON’T DRIVE IF YOU DRANK, ¿OK?

 **SAM_FROST:** I DON’T OWN A CAR. SWEET DREAMS, SLEEPING BEAUTY.

 **DAN.T.:** I HATE YOU.

With a tiny smile, Dan left his phone on the side table and wet to sleep.

In the morning, soft but resonant knocks on his door woke him. Without waiting for an answer, his mother poked her head and surveyed the spotless room until her eyes fell on the narrowed ones of her son.

“Good morning, Dante.”

“… morning, mom.”

The woman came in and gave him a kiss on the hair. He returned one on her cheek. Then light and fresh air invaded the room, causing Dan to cover his face with the sheet and cling to the pillow.

“Mom, it’s Saturday. Why do you torment me?”

“Torment you? You’re wasting a beautiful spring day! Furthermore,” she added, pulling the sheet down. “They called from the shop. Your glasses are ready.”

The boy opened an eye. “Well, well. It was faster than I hoped. Are you going to the University today?”

“No, but I have to go to the bank ant to see the mechanic. If I’m not back for lunch, there’s lasagna in the oven. I love you,” and, with that said, she posed a last kiss on Dan’s head and left the room.

Frances Lane was a Literature teacher at one of top universities of the country, yet, she tried not to become absorbed in work and enjoy every free moment she had, which turned her to be extremely strict with schedules and academic petitions she made to her students. In fact, she was considered one of the toughest college teachers around, but no one was leaving her class without learning something; she always made sure.

Her love for the letters stretched from every corner of the house occupied by pillars of books that no longer fit on the shelves, until the very name of her son, which of course, James was inefficient on refusing.

However, the boy got ready with the entire world’s patience and came out on the street.

* * *

 

Furiously, Eric threw the pillow across the room and it crashed into the opposite wall with a muffled «thud». The memory of the previous night glowed like molten lava in his veins. He hadn’t felt so angry since long ago, and he conjured a silent curse for nothing to get leaked into Dan’s ears.

_‘What’s wrong with that berk?! I’ve told him a million times that I’m not interested and he goes and makes such a show in front of the whole damned school. Besides, he’s a guy!... Ah, right… Dante is as well… So what if I fell in love with someone else? How many times will I have to reject him? Perhaps I should take drastic methods…’_

With all this in mind, he left the house, taking care to not bang the front door too hard. It didn’t matter where he went, right know he needed to cool down and get some air. Completely distracted, he let his feet guide him through the streets of the suburbs. Not quick nor trouble were taken at fixing at what streets he crossed or what corners he changed his course. When he calmed enough to look around, he found himself near the natural science museum. He was not surprise at all to have arrived there; after all, it was his favorite place when he was a kid.

The place was almost empty compared to how he remembered it, but still not missing the horde of rowdy kids dragging their mothers pulling clothes and shouting "Look, Mom, a dinosaur!" The boy ran the place with all patience, taking the time to read each of the small posters at each sculpture, image or skeleton, forcing himself to breathe slowly whenever he remembered the words Russell had whispered the night before.

_‘I won’t let anyone take you away from me, even if I have to force your mate to hate you…’_

Eric clenched his fists and held the strong impulse to destroy the Cenozoic hominid model before him. What was his fucking problem? ‘… _force your mate to hate you…’_ A shiver ran down his spine when he observed the diagram explaining that strange but wonderful phenomenon. Available to the public, there were different brochures developed for all the ages. Eric took one for adults.

 

> INCANDESCENT PHENOMENON
> 
> The Incandescent Phenomenon is a rare event among the human species, which generates changes in the body and reactions in relationships of people.
> 
> Like many living beings, humans produce pheromones, chemical substances that generate a specific behavior in individuals of the same species. Despite the few studies that have been done on the subject, it is known that infinitely weaker and specific than any other mammal, human pheromones generate a unique series of reactions in a single individual throughout their lifetime.
> 
> The selection process or the reason for this are unknown, but it is said that there are only two living people with the same type of pheromone, which are popularly known as Soul Mates and who will react to these only under certain factors still ignored by the scientific community. Soul mates are completely independent of race, age or sex, and once the specific individual's pheromone is recognized, it is impossible to react so strongly to a romantic or sexual relationship with anyone else.
> 
> The chemical signal triggers the release of a hormone called luciferin, which is concentrated in the center of the chest causing a reddish glow whose intensity can vary depending on the mood of the person. This luminescence’s product will be known as Incandescent Phenomenon.
> 
> When the brain reacts by releasing the luciferin, also is conditioning the production of oxytocin B, which is created only upon the recognition of the mate’s pheromones. This hormone is the only substance capable of inhibiting the function of luciferin in humans, and it is impossible its synthetic production. Oxytocin B is created with any type of sexual contact between the Soul mates. A kiss on the lips is usually enough to generate the required amount that inhibits the function of luciferin.
> 
> After the first release of oxytocin B, there won’t be any production of luciferin, but if it is never released, the effect of luciferin will be undefined.
> 
> Socially, the meeting of the mate can get three results: successful, mediocre and failed. A successful meeting would be where soul mates accept each other, initiating a romantic and/or sexual relationship that last a lifetime; a mediocre meeting will be if the role of luciferin is consumed, but there's not any class of long term affective relationship; and a failed meeting is one in which a mutual accepting doesn't exist so the two individuals will be recognized for his brilliant chest the rest of their life.

Eric sighed heavily. His Mediocre encounter with Dan would be completely disastrous if nothing was done to circumvent the twisted plans of Russell. The boy knew he had to confess his feelings to Dan as soon as possible or his love life would go to waste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if the brochure was very boring, but I got excited with this hormone thing. (I emphasize that the content in this is completely fictional and the fact of the explained phenomenon has no occurrence in any real living being.)  
> I ask extreme apologies to Zakuro-san, who originally thought things as something mystical and not a scientific fact.  
> I recently discovered that Zakuro planned to expand the original content of his work with [ This comic book ](http://www.inkblazers.com/manga-and-comics/Souls-Fate/detail-page/6427?lang=en%20), however, I began to write this story thinking that that comment on Tumblr was the only material.  
> Anyway, I emphasize that the fic posted here is simply content inspired in and nothing official of Soul's Fates fandom.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I need to clarify one thing:  
> This is not a chapter but a tiny advance while I finish the next one. It really is important that the next chapter is perfect and I don't feel satisfied yet. I beg you to excuse me and be patient, because the truth is that I don't know when I'll upload. Maybe I can finish before next week. I promise I haven't abandoned this fic and I'm not planning to do so in the near future ;)

Dan left the store a bit dizzy. The new glasses rested on the bridge of his nose and the replacement ones, safe on his pocket. He wasn’t used to the new frame (slightly more square than the previous one), but it was a relief to walk down the street with ease again.

His house was a bit far, but it was still early. He could walk and get some sun. Perhaps it would help him to clear.

He crossed a couple of streets, trying to adapt to the focus his eyes had lost in recent days; so he thought a lot if he hallucinated seeing that brown, almost reddish hair around the corner. When the eyes were fixed on his, he knew it was not a figment of his imagination. Eric was there, across the street, approaching him. His heart was about to go out through his mouth.

“It's impossible that you're not stalking me,” he said with a grin.

“Well, for such a task I would need to have good sighting skills, which I pitifully don't” Dan snorted, crossing his arms. He made a huge effort to contain a smile at the idea the other way round.

“Good point. Those look good on you” the other said, referring to the glasses. Dan clearly felt the heat rising on his cheeks.

“T-Thanks...”

“Hey, um... I was wondering if... Do you have something to do?” Eric asked, rubbing the back of his neck with sudden nervousness.

“Huh?” And this time, the heat rose to his ears. “No, not really.”

“So, would you like to go somewhere?”

There was a moment of awkward silence, then: “Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to check the wonderful work of [Zakuro-san](http://zakuro-san.tumblr.com/), the main author.  
> I apologize if there's any mistake on this work. English is not my first language.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI!  
> Finally got this done. I put my heart fully into it, so I hope you like it ^^.  
> Thanks for everyone who had read until now. Hopefully continue next Tuesday!

Half an hour later they were entering the largest amusement park in miles around. Eric, to the bewilderment of Dan, insisted on paying the tickets.

“All right. If it bothers you that much, you can pay for the food,” the boy replied at the complains. His eyes said he wouldn’t order the cheapest ice cream. Dan was glad he had taken money to spare.

They walked quietly among the attractions, admiring each of the possibilities until Dan broke the silence that had started to become uncomfortable. “And... which one do you want to ride?”

Eric shrugged. “The roller coaster?” Dan blanched. “Unless you're scared, of course.”

“I beg your pardon? I'll show you who's scared.” He readjusted his glasses over his nose and headed to the queue, strangely short for a Saturday morning. Eric was beside him, smiling until he lightly grazed his arm and felt it shaking like a leaf in the spring breeze.

“Nerd, you alright?”

“…indeed I am.”

“You’re shivering.” Eric grabbed his arm, making him turn around and face him. Dan hided himself behind the lenses’ glow.

“Me? Yeah, sure!”

“Stop! If you don’t want to ride it, it’s fine!” The other exploded, shaking his shoulders. The other people on the queue feared for their integrity and stepped back a little, giving Eric plenty of space to shake Dan’s brain in his skull.

“Enough…”

Eric released him after a while. Dan felt the poor breakfast of that morning was packing to leave through the way it had come. As he couldn’t keep stand, he leaned over Eric’s shoulder and tried to guess which of the two pair of feet he saw was the real one. He breathed deeply, again and again until his stomach stopped protesting.

“Are you ok? I’m serious, If you don’t want, you don’t have to ride it.

“But I want to!”

Eric blinked a couple of times. “But what are you talking about?!”

Dan took a few steps away and sighed.

“I… am afraid of heights, okay? Each time I come I tell myself I’ll ride it the next time and never do it. So, I’d like to try it today…”

Eric’s expression softened and he began to laugh. “Why didn’t you mention it before?” He said, pushing him forward slightly in the row. “If you really want to do it, no one's stopping you.”

A few minutes later, it was over. Dan was pale as a ghost, but had a wide grin on his face. Eric, on the other hand, did everything possible to hide the marks of nails that the boy had left on his forearm, but Dan was so absent at the time, he wouldn’t have noticed if a pig flew over his head.

“So…” said Eric, taking him out of that stupor. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Uh… I would not use the word enjoy, but I’m glad I did it. What do you want to ride now?”

Eric refused to suggest something else, fearing further traumatize to the boy, so they went to all the attractions that Dan wanted until hunger made their stomach roar. They sat in the cafeteriahg, on the farthest table of the whole group, preparing to eat calmly. And they did, but silence, as always, became uncomfortable.

“So… how was Masae Jones’ party?” Dan asked after swallowing a big bite. I heard you hit a guy.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. That guy is the stalker you deny to be.” The coldness masked his whole face, but the disgust poisoned every one of the words. “Russell Barnes and I were neighbors a few years ago and we were friends until he became too interested on me. I have rejected him as politely as I can, but being drunk, he is a complete idiot. He tried to kiss me in front of the whole school! I had no choice but to hit him.”

“Yeah… No one knows better than me that you are bad tempered, but you didn’t try to hurt me that day when…” Dan went pale. Eric, in contrast turned tomato red. “Ah! It was not my intention—!”

“You ran away before I could.”

“I… EH?! Would you really had hurt me back then?!”

“Well… I…”

_‘This guy… Did I err my decision?’_

Dan resolved to sigh and let go of the anger growing inside him, but desperation was getting a good spot on his chest. ‘ _Maybe I should let that Russell kidnap him one of these days.’_ He stared into the distance and slowly chewed a French fry despite having a dry throat. _‘Why do I make myself illusions? It is clear that he doesn’t like me that way. If I tried to kiss him, would he break my nose? ... Ah, I just couldn’t do it even if I wanted, I'm a coward. I should let him hit me and end this once and for all. I better give up on him.’_

“Dante? Don’t get mad, I was just kidding! I would never hurt you!... again.”

At the mention of his name on the other’s lips, Dan felt the ice of his heart melting. If Eric didn’t like him, then why had he asked him out? It is true that the word _date_ was never on his lips, but it spilled into the light that shone in his eyes. Maybe it was better not to waste the opportunity. _‘This guy…’_

“However. I still want to try a lot of rides. Shall we go to the pirate ship? I think I can keep going with this of heights.”

Eric said nothing. He finished his food quickly and followed him through the tables.

In the afternoon, Eric began to fear that those nail marks would left scar. He could not explain the ability of the boy to find each and every one with his eyes shut. If things continued like that, it would be a matter of time that the flesh began to bleed. Furthermore, Dante looked like a kid in a candy store. While the feeling of vertigo didn’t disappear, he was starting to enjoy the adrenaline. But soon they had ridden almost all strong attractions of the park, so they opted for the different stations where you can win prizes or lose a lot of money. They stopped at one where there was a lot of glass bottles stacked in several pyramids. Of course, the most distant represented the biggest prizes.

“Would you like to try it? It's my treat,” Eric said.

“Oh, you're very kind, but I have very bad aim. Better you do it.”

Eric paid five dollars for a try and the clerk gave him a rifle that fired corks. If he could knock only the bottle on top of the farthest lot, that one painted in red, a great prize would be taken, the girl assured him. He made it on the first attempt. Both the girl and Dante saw him with an open mouth, except that their eyes reflect different things. Dante, on the one hand, was very impressed; the clerk, on the other, cursed internally. But a deal was a deal, so climbing up a small staircase, she dropped down the largest teddy bear they had and sat it on the counter.

The boy immediately looked at Dante, frowning.

“Do not stare at me,” he replied. “What do you think I’ll do with a teddy bear, even if it’s a gift from you?” And he bit his tongue hard for not thinking before speaking. Eric seemed not to hear him.

“Er... couldn’t you give me something smaller?” he Said, leaning over the side of the huge teddy that had at least one meter high.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” Dan had to contain a loud laugh at the mention of Sir Richmond. “But it is our policy to deliver the greatest prize available to the customer who topples the red bottle.”

He discussed several minutes with the women, claiming that he couldn’t carry such a thing throughout the park, but she was adamant (rather, seemed to enjoy revenge). In the end, the boy sighed, leaning the teddy on his back, and said to himself: “Well, if the nerd doesn’t want it, at least my sister will enjoy it.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Dante commented after a while. They were wandering around the park, looking for an attraction  they could ride with the huge bear.

“No? She’s nine. Her name is Laura.”

“If you have a little sister, why quibbling over the bear so much? Sure she will love it!”

“Don’t you think it's a bear too big? I do not want to spoil her.”

“My. Who would say it... an overprotective brother. Surely you will drive her boyfriends away.”

“Of course. That’s what is expected of me.”

Dan chuckled and offered to carry the bear a while, which Eric gratefully accepted, straightening his back bones. After that, Eric left Dan sitting on a bench and went to get something to eat. The boy took the opportunity to clean his new glasses and send a message to Sam, attaching a photo of the bear sitting beside him.

 **DAN.T.:** ERIC WON THIS AT THE AMUSSEMENT PARK.

And a few moments later:

 **SAM_FROST:** HOW ROMANTIC! HE GAVE YOU  SUPREME TEDDY BEAR. AW. I KNEW HE HAD A HEART… DEEP INSIDE.

 **DAN.T.:** IT’S FOR HIS SISTER, IDIOT.

 **SAM_FROST:** EH… YOU ARE SO MEAN TO ME.

Dan didn’t want to continue the conversation, so he just saw the bear, wearing a purple top hat and bow tie on the nonexistent neck. The little eyes were two jet-black shiny spheres under the last lights of the afternoon. The synthetic skin was very soft and fluffy. And to think it only had cost five dollars! Yep, that girl had won the lottery. Besides that Eric was near her the twenty four hours a day...

The boy returned holding a chocolate ice cream in one hand and cotton candy in the other. He sat at the opposite end of the bench, the bear in the middle. He reached out and gave the pink cotton to Dante.

“Thank you.”

Dan, although not directly seeing him, realized Eric didn’t suck the ice cream as a normal person, but licked it with the tip of his tongue, like a cat. He chuckled and offered him some cotton candy, careful not to leave the bear sticky. Eric got a piece by hand and threw it into his mouth and then grimaced.

“Ugh. I don’t get how you can eat all that. It’s too sweet.”

“You think so? And why do you eat the ice cream like that?”

“Like what?” He said frowning at him, peeking at one side of the furry animal. But before Dan could answer, the boy had already finished it, forcing himself to take big bites, causing sudden pain to scour around the skull.

“It’s getting late” Dan remarked, glancing up to the sky where the sun was already harboring behind the tree crowns. “But I still want to try the Ferris Wheel.”

“Huh? You sure? That thing has like 350 ft height.”

“I already tried almost everything in here and nothing bad happened. Plus it is said you can see the whole city from up there.”

Eric didn’t seem too sure about it, but finally agreed, so they took turns to load the bear and finally settled it on one of the seats in the cabin. It was so filled and its legs so thick, they had no choice but to sit together while the bear saw them staring.

When they started to move, Eric felt the boy's nails sinking into the forearm skin again, but didn’t complain, because Dan seemed petrified growing. If he wanted to get back home with all limbs in place, he would have to distract him. Besides, it was a good time to say that so important thing he had to say. Now or never.

“So… I know is none of my business, but… do you have someone you like?”

The grip on his arm gradually decreased until the boy released him, but not his eyes from the window.

“I do… and you?”

Eric was glad the bear was the only one looking at him.

“Well… I… you see, s-since… em… Oh, damn it! I like you, okay?!

And now Dante certainly turned to face him, and found his cheeks all red. For a moment, he was at a loss of words, and when he could speak again, Eric interrupted him.

“I know it's very rushed, I know that I know nothing about you, but for some reason you're the only thing I can think of. I ... I'm sorry I hurt. Whenever I saw you anger and confusion filled me, but now I understand it's because I didn’t accept my feelings. I ... I'm an idiot.” The last words came out with a tiny laugh.

Dante felt confused, partly because he couldn’t believe his ears, partly because his brain couldn’t put responses into words, but above all, partly, a large part, because every cell in his body was radiating from euphoria . He breathed deeply until he could speak coherently. _‘Be brief! Don’t ruin it now!’_

“It’s fine. No need to keep apologizing. You know? I don’t know why, nor how, nor when, but… I like you back.”

Up there, on top, the sun still bordered on the horizon, mixing orange and red with violet and blue night sky. It appeared to have been painted with watercolors. Everything faded, like that day in the park, in the amber color of _his_ hair. Suddenly, Dante wanted to know if it really was as soft to the touch as it looked. The blaze blinded him except his silhouette, but what mattered. He was used to not seeing very clearly. After all, that figure was approaching, slowly, hesitantly. He took his hand and felt it tremble under his. He smiled. If there was room for words, he would have joke to increase Eric’s nerves, but he craved that moment too tightly for his throat to let out any sound. His chest burned and he let go of the air he didn’t know had been holding. For the second time, he leaned forward but now Eric met him halfway. He brushed his lips with his own and found them warm, soft, like the sun on a summer morning. He was aware that he would think about it later and be embarrassed of himself, but now, right now, he was very busy clinging to the tingling sensation on his chest. Those lips were just perfect against his. He felt arms around his back and let them catch in hard. As they deepened the kiss, Dante felt something tied him, drew him to Eric and knew it was that inexplicable connection of destiny, growing stronger by the second. And he knew he wouldn’t ever let go, because he couldn’t imagine being anywhere, with anyone else. Eric absorbed him, filled him. He slid his tongue into his mouth and could taste the cotton candy and the chocolate ice cream that he had eaten a while ago.

Then he felt something strange in the stomach. The cabin was moving more than necessary. He opened his eyes and saw the treetops. Soon they would be at ground level. Reluctantly, he memorized again the sweet taste of his mate and broke the kiss. Eric did not protest. He just held his hand until they came down from the cab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to check the wonderful work of [Zakuro-san](http://zakuro-san.tumblr.com/), the main author.  
> I apologize if there's any mistake on this work. English is not my first language.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was finally able to update!  
> I very much regret the delay.  
> I'm sorry to say that I won't be publish on Tuesdays anymore. I mean I don't know when I can update, so I'll stop promising deadlines that I cannot fulfill. However, the story continues yet. There might be a new chapter any day of the week ^^.

_‘What the heck is wrong with today’s kids?!’_ Eric was lolling on the bed, with lights off and clothes still on. His neck hurt because of reposing on the unapreciated stuffed animal (which had ended up occupying the half of the mattress) and the fingers of his left hand rested motionless over his mouth. He could yet perceive a light titillation if he recalled it. It was madness, he knew it as good as he knew the sun rises from west and stars shine at midday. He was flat lost on his feelings. There were no words to describe the diverse range of sensations that he could feet under the skin at that time, but if his life depended on it, he would have described it as an explosion of color, filling his heart with mist, illuminating the darkness, drying the wounds.

The door, ajar, creaked when someone tried to knock. His mother came in without waiting for an answer and turned on the light.

“Oh, son, I was worried. Where were– What’s that?”

“Hi, mom. I won it at the amusement park, but Laura didn’t want it."

“Huh? Why not?”

“She said she’s not five anymore. It’s fine, I’ll keep it, I uess,” he said shrugging.

“But what were you doing at the amusement park in first place? Don’t tell me you reconciled with Russell!”

“Of course not. Mom, I have other friends, ya know?” Lie. “Plus… I was  in a date. That’s why I didn’t call.”

Eric’s mother’s eyes shone with an unknown expectation for the boy. Immediately, the women closed the door behind her back and sat on the bed next to her son, encouraging him to start talking. She wouldn’t accept silence as a response.

“C’mon, tell me. Who is your girlfriend?”

Eric’s heart skipped a bit. He was a pretty antisocial person, so he had never considered the possibility of falling in love, much less finding his soul mate, and least that that person were a boy. He had already made up his mind to himself, but he didn’t know if his mother would agree. After all, she was not the most opened minded mother of the world, especially if it came to her children. Eric prayed for his mother not to be homophobic and reached for the words.

“Well, um… is not my girlfriend.”

“Huh? You hadn’t asked her yet?”

“No, that’s not the point. It happens… that this person is my soul mate and…”

Margaret opened both eyes so much that they could have jumped out of their sockets at any second. With a squeal of excitement, she strongly embraced her son and covered him with kisses that left red lipstick marks all over his face. Eric wondered if his mother would still be kissing him when he told her it was a boy and not a beauty with big breasts as she expected.

“Stop, mom!”

“Oh, I’m so glad for you! A Soul mate is a huge happiness source. Did she accepted you?”

“Mother, I’m more worried for you to accept him.”

“…him?... You’re saying… that is a guy?”

“So it is.” It seemed as if someone had drained all vibe and emotion from the room. Even the teddy bear’s staring looked warmer than Margaret’s eyes. _‘Damn! What have I done?!’_

“Do you… love him?”

“I… guess? It’s just… everything happened so fast, but still… I wouldn’t imagine things otherwise."

Margaret was silent a moment, staring at his hands, then turned to see his son, and with a calm smile, said: “I'm happy for you. Soul mates don’t grow on trees, so you better trat him well. When will you present him to me?”

“Mom!”

“I know!”

“Mom.”

“Invite him to dinner tomorrow!”

“Mom…”

“Do you know what he likes?”

“Mom! We’d only have a date. He’ll kill me if he knows I told anybody!” Please, just imagine Eric’s face while thinking someone as passive as Dan would kill him.

“Bosh. I’m your mother and I have the right to meet my son in law.

“You’re aware we’re not married, right?”

“Irrelevant! Just bring him tomorrow before six,” and said that, she exited the room, leaving Eric confused. _‘Should I be happy or mortified?’_

Eric looked at his watch. It was 9:30, yet decently early. Better ask if Dante had plans for the next day as soon as possible. Or should he not ask and tell his mother he was busy? After all, the final exams were coming the following Tuesday. Maybe he should leave it alone and focus on studying. _‘But I_ want _to see him... I don’t lose anything by asking'_. Just like that, he took out his phone and sent a message, not daring to call so soon.

 **ER:** R U FREE TOMORROW?

 **DAN.T.:** ER? YOU’RE SO CREATIVE! WELL, I WAS PLANNING ON STUDYIN FOR EXAMS.

 **ER:** UR STILL A NERD

 **DAN.T.:** SAID MISTER I WANT AN SCHOLARSHIP.

 **ER:** YOU MAKE FUN OF ME? SO MUCH CONFIDENCE GAVE YOU THAT KISS?

 **DAN.T.:** …

 **ER:** LOOK I DONT WANNA ARGUE. I WAS ONLY WONDERING IF YAD LIKE TO HAVE DINNER AT MY HOUSE TOMORROW

 **DAN.T.:** HAVE DINNER IN YOUR HOUSE? SO MUCH CONFIDENCE GAVE YOU THAT KISS?

 **ER:** WHAT AWFUL MANNERS!

 **DAN.T.:** NEVERTHELESS, I MUST RETURN YOU SOME THINGS.

 **ER:** …RIGHT. SO R U COMING?

 **DAN.T.:** I WANT TO ASK WHY THE SUDDEN INVITATION FIRST.

 **ER:** JUST… DONT BE MAD. MY MOTHER INSISTED ON KNOWING WHAT I DID TODAY. SHE WANTS TO MEET YA IN CONDENSED STATEMENTS

 **DAN.T.:** HUH? WHY WOULD I BE MAD? I’LL GO WITH A CONDITION.

 **ER:** EXIGENT? FINE NAME IT

 **DAN.T.:** HELP ME STUDYING WITH CHEMESTRY.

 **ER:** … SURE I GUESS BUT ONLY IF YA HELP ME WITH LITERATURE

 **DAN.T.:** IT’S A DEAL. I CAN GO EARLIER TO STUDY ON THE AFTERNOON.

 **ER:** GOOD. ILL TAKE YA AT 3

 **DAN.T.:** WHAT SHOULD I WEAR?

 **ER:** WHAT R U? A GIRL? WEAR ANYTHING!

 **DAN.T.:** WILL YOU YELL TO ME IF I GO WEARING PAJAMAS?

 **ER:** OH, ILL MAKE SO MUCH MORE, NERD (¬-¬)

* * *

 

In the morning, Dan was so nervous he had trouble even keeping the milk and cereal inside the spoon. Beside him, his father wiped remains of bread and orange juice from the moustache, while Frances hurried the coffee in an attempt to return as soon as possible to her study, which was cut short when she saw the trembling hand of her son.

“Dante, are you OK?”

The boy, sunken in his thoughts, stifled a sigh and looked toward his mother, avoiding her eyes completely.

“Y-yes. It's nothing.” Actually, it was everything. He couldn’t believe what he was about to say, but if he didn’t speak now, he would explode. Why Sam didn’t answer his damn calls?!  “Well, no, actually I have something to tell you...”

* * *

 

Moments after ringing the doorbell, an undoubtedly bald but provided with a bushy mustache male opened the door. The man looked up and down at him and, without stop staring, shouted over his shoulder: “Dante! Your boyfriend is here!”

Eric flushed away, struggling to contain all the shame within.

“G-good afternoon, sir. Mi name is Eric Richmond. You must be Mr. Henson.”

“I am,” James roared, refusing to take the hand that particular boy held out until his arm went tired. Eric began to panic. He had been there less than two minutes and was already making a tremendous effort to hold the look the man gave him. It was like he was getting a fifty yards restraining order from his home and his son. When the boy felt the tears beginning to form behind his eyes for flashing absence, Dante appeared behind his father.

“Dad… What are you doing?”

“Nothing, nothing. Take care, will you?” And said that, he took the boy out the house and closed the door behind him. Eric soon saw him appear trough the glass of the window. He couldn’t help but swallowed when the man directed the index and middle fingers in his eyes and then toward him. _‘I'm watching you’_ , no doubt.

“Shall we go?”

Dante did what he could to bring Eric out of the garden as quickly as possible and they walked together down the street.

“Eric, excuse my father.”

“It’s nothing.”

“I think he just wanted to make you uncomfortable. He usually does it with the players of his team until they get tired or resign.”

“Is he coach or something?”

“Yes. He coaches a professional basketball team."

“Hmm ... You're not much like him.” Eric scoffed, covering a smile with the back of his hand.

“I know...” the other said with a sigh. “What about you? Which of your parents you’re most alike?”

“What a question... I think I’m more like my grandfather than my parents. Laura, however, is like my mother in miniature.”

They kept chatting as they walked, and before he knew it, Dan was standing in front of a beautiful corner house that looked alien to all others in the vicinity. It not only distinguished by having three floors, but white walls rather than gray, the yellow roses in the garden, the elaborate bars on the windows, vines crawling up the walls and a red door which gave it a nice old-lady air.

“This was grandmother’s house,” Eric said before he could ask.

Without another word, Eric took out the keys from his pocket and opened the door.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must thank specially my beloved cousins for lending me their names, and JJ-sempai, who always brings light to me.

Dante proceeded to go through the door, but still remaining some distance behind Eric, he couldn’t save the cold water balloon that crashed on his head, soaking the hair he had endeavored so much in mussing. A second balloon fell on his left shoulder, soaking equally his shirt. The boy didn’t say a word. He just released a sigh and dried the lenses with the last few inches of the skirt that didn't drip yet. They weren't perfect, but the rest would dry on its own.

“What the hell?!” Uttered Eric and drew closer to him. They heard laughter coming from somewhere above them. “It can’t be… Laura!” He yelled.

Two tiny heads appeared over the railing of the rooftop. As they saw that the ground wasn’t wet around the person they expected, the laughter stopped and the girls sprang back to their hiding place.

Eric led the boy inside and disappeared trough the right door to appear few moments after with a clean towel.

“Dante, I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. Be grateful to my bad luck it wasn’t you,” the other said, wiping his hair carelessly, so that he ended up all disheveled.

“Bad luck?”

“This kind of things happens frequently to me.”

“Your clothes are soaked. C’mon, I’ll borrow you something.”

Dan followed him up the stairs to the third floor and to his room. The place was bright and quite spacious, very clean and tidy; even the wooden floor seemed to have been waxed that morning. Perhaps medicine was the right path for Eric, even if it was only a stereotype.

“Wow.”

Eric didn’t say a word about it, beginning to rummage through his clothes.

“I think it’s a li’l big, but it might work ‘till yours gets dried,” Eric said, emerging from the closet with a dark blue t-shirt in his hands. Dan left the backpack aside and began to undo the buttons of his green plaid shirt. He saw the taller turn around, avoiding the gaze. “Ah, I'll go see Laura for a moment. Be right back.”

 _‘What’s wrong with him? Is not like he hasn’t seen me shirtless before. In fact,_ that _day I wasn’t… wearing it… either…’_ Dan knew how Eric felt and hurried to put on the t-shirt, which still smelled like fabric softener. It wasn’t a lil big, rather hung from his shoulders. He swore for not being slightly taller when Eric came back with some drinks and kept a forced straight face, however, he held back his laugh for another moment, because he was accompanied. Two girls came in after him.

The shortest child's cheeks were covered with freckles and that lovely auburn hair hang on the back of her head in a ponytail. Obviously, she was Eric's sister. The other girl was completely different, sporting a curly black hair that reached her waist, wearing a simple white dress and her chocolate eyes avoided Dante’s in full shyness.

Eric stood behind them and pointing at respectively said: “She is my sister Laura, and she is Ana, our neighbor.”

“Hi,” Dante greeted with the best smile he had that moment.

The girls didn’t say a word, but Eric spotted a hand on their shoulders, preventing their escape plans. “Kids, don’t you have something to say to Dante?”

“W-we’re sorry, sir” _‘Sir?!’_. “It wasn’t our intention to wet you. It had to be my brother.”

Eric pulled a face and Dan gave them a beam that made the other flush. “It’s fine. Some water can’t kill anyone. But, please, don’t call me sir. My name is Dante.”

“Well, you can go back play. We had a lot to study, but if you need something, tell me.” Eric asseverated, letting go, and soon they were alone.

* * *

 

Once Margaret had arrived home, she found the floor slightly wet. It looked like someone had cleaned it some time ago, but the window was closed, so there remained some wet patches on different zones of the corridor. Caring not to smear the floor again, she got inside the kitchen and unloaded the bags she had on the counter. Soon she heard rapid footsteps coming down the stairs, while others, arrhythmic, followed them slowly. Laura appeared as an arrow and clung to hers waist, while Ana stayed a couple of meters behind, waving her hand to the woman timidly.

“How are you, girls? Where’s your brother?”

“Eric is in his room. He said they had a lot to study.”

“They?” The woman echoed, blinking twice.

“Yeah. By accident we wet his friend when they were on the garden.”

Margaret remained quiet, completely ignoring the fact that the girls had been throwing water balloons from the rooftop again. Because right now Eric was with a boy, that boy was his mate. They had arrived earlier without her aware of it. They were _studying_ , alone. _‘Do they think I was born yesterday?!’_

The veins burned in her body as she climbed the stairs as fast as she possibly could without making too much noise. When she reached the third floor, she stopped a moment to take a breath and went to the room of her child. From the hallway she could hear the two guys talked. Since she couldn’t understand the words, Margaret put her ear to the door.

“Hey, I won’t be doing the work for you.” An unknown voice stated.

“I know! Shut up and let me take responsibility, OK?”

Imagining the worst of the possible situations, Margaret knocked a couple of times and, without waiting for an answer, opened the door at full speed, hitting the dresser beside the entrance. It was the sound of the lamp bulb crashing on the ground what cleared her senses again.

The boys were petrified, watching her. When set, Margaret noticed that they were sat on the carpet; at least two meters of open books and mountains of sheets between them. The unknown boy holding an exam with a grade of D- with Eric’s handwriting on it, noting some of the lines with a pencil; glasses hung crooked on his nose and his eyes were pure surprise. Eric on the other hand, had such frown that it almost seemed there was not an inch of space between his eyebrows.

“Mother!” He snorted.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me we would have a guest so early, Eric,” she said, moving aside the thought with wave of her hand and smiling innocently.

Once the few hairs on his arms were back in place, Dan adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, pulled the book that lay open on his lap and stood up, approaching the women.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Richmond,” he said, extending his hand. She shook it, staring into his eyes, her twenty years as attorney firm in each of her manners, that made Dante feel clearly alarmed. “My name is Dante Henson.”

“It's a pleasure, young man,” she said, slightly loosening the tension in her hand and smirking  a convincingly cozy smile.

When Margaret asked why Dante was wearing the t-shirt of his son, Eric cleared the room, saying that he must talk to her alone for a minute. The guy excused and closed the door behind him.

Being alone, Dante breathed slowly, processing what just happened and suspected that dinner would be more complicated than his last walk in the park.


	11. Chapter 11

It had been about two hours since Margaret let them study again. Eric apologized until Dante got tired of saying it was nothing major, that, however, he should take advantage of all these energies and finish correcting that awful exam instead.

“Did you even read one of the essays I made for you this past two years?”

At his silence, Dan gave him a light blow in the arm and furiously wrote a list of steps to develop a decent essay. Geez, the guy had been sleeping in Literature the entire year. Dan wondered if it was possible for him to recover all the bad grades he should have accumulated. Well, they still have a couple more years in school, he should be fine.

“You need a B+ at least in the final exam if you don’t want to stay to the summer course, Eric.”

“Anything for the Medicine…” he sighed.

“And not only that. Rest assured that you will not see me until September if you don’t pass that test.”

Apparently, that was the perfect incentive. Eric completely forgot everything but study or reviewing the inorganic chemistry exercises that gradually ceased being a headache for Dante.

As soon as they decided they had racked their brains enough for one day, Eric received a text message. From the look on his face, he was debating on what to express first: laughter or anger.

“Is mom,” he said in confused tone. “She wants us to help her prepare dinner. Did she go crazy? And why does she have to text me? We're right here!”

Dan pushed the glasses better over his nose, looking at the time on his own phone. It was after six. He stood up.

“Better not leave her waiting.”

Eric looked up at him, puzzled.

“What’re you talking about? You’re a guest! You don’t have-”

“Obviously,” he interrupted, “your mother is testing me. She wants to see if, first, I can handle housework and second, if I offer my help even when I don’t have to.”

“Yes, but-”

“C’mon, we’re done after all, right?”

There it was again, that beam that made him blush. Eric gave up and stood too. Dan turned around and before he could take a step forward, Eric passed both arms over his shoulders, gripping him tightly in a hug from behind. His breath tickled his ear.

“Just don’t cut any finger off, okay?”

“You know,” Dan remarked, as the shiver that ran down his spine faded, “I'm not that clumsy.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he whispered.

“Hmph. Not good for the first compliment you do to me.”

"I'm not a good person."

Dante took his arms gently, setting them apart just enough to turn around without breaking the embrace and then put his own arms around Eric’s waist, clinging to him.

“I don’t know if that's true... I don’t know...” The words died in his throat as his mind went blank. He felt the invisible bond attracting him to Eric, and before he knew it, they were at a bland distance of a few centimeters.

Suddenly, Eric’s phone rang again. Both went startled, looked at each other and began to laugh. Dante pulled away, allowing Eric to respond to his mother. He wondered if the interruption was the result of his bad luck or some manifestation of kindness on the part of fate, because he knew that would have distracted him enough so there to be a real risk of losing a finger in the kitchen. When finished, Eric said nothing, simply ruffled his hair gently and left the room, Dan following.

* * *

 

It didn’t take them long to finish making dinner, the division of labor was efficient. As he assumed from the start, Dan was assigned to the cumbersome task of preparing the almond sauce to accompany the chicken. It really was not his forte, but Eric did his best to help while his mother wasn’t looking (especially when pouring the wine). Finally, hour and a half later they were five at the table, since Ana was cordially invited, as usual.

Short minutes later they started dinner, Dante was besieged by a multitude of questions, which he did his best to answer fully without leaking too much information. After all, his opponent was a skilled and experienced lawyer who did not mince her words. His parents job, the number of close relatives and even if he had any pets were the main topics. Dan watched Eric from the corner of his eye, wondering if the faded red color on his cheeks reflected anger or shame.

Family matters gave way to the academic ones. Margaret asked for his notes, his physical performance and the interest he put into his studies. However, Dan was confused when he noticed that the woman had left the most important to the final question.

“Tell me what are you thinking to do in the future?”

“I _want_ to be a writer,” he said, knowing what would be discussed below.

“You want? That’s not very determined. Is something stopping you?”

“Oh, no, on the contrary. My parents support me one hundred percent. But it is uncertain the future you might have as a writer, especially if you are new, therefore I will perform as editor while developing my writing.”

“So it would not be writing the plan B then?”

“Not at all; is recognition field. It's like what you do, right? A lawyer takes all the information that is available, either for or against his client. Of it depends the advantage to control the course of the trial, right? You cannot win a debate with no arguments. This is similar. There will be more benefits in collecting acquaintances and form business ties before launching myself to publish, don’t you think?”

Margaret looked at him carefully, eyes narrowing slightly. “Hm... seems like you know right what you want,” she said with a smile.

“But it's not important what you will, it’s what you take advantage on getting closer to that goal. The end doesn’t justify the means while seeking other’s damage,” Dan replied, arguing against what Margaret tried to imply.

“Hmm, I see. You know, Eric says he wants to be a doctor. What do you think of that?”

“Does it matter what I think about it?” Dan said as tactfully as he could.

Everyone at the table turned to him intently, without saying a word.

“Ah, don’t misunderstand me. What I mean is that the views of third parties should not interfere in such important decisions. If I, hypothetically, of course, told Eric that medicine is not for him, maybe I get to persuade him and cause him to abandon his dreams, or if I press him to do it and he realizes it wasn’t what he really wanted, he could force himself to pursue a career that doesn’t make him happy. It’s not that his future doesn’t interest me, I don’t judge because it interests me. The real responsibility lies in providing support over personal interests, doesn’t it?”

Laura broke the silence.

“Eric, I didn’t understand half of what he said, but your friend is cool.”

It was the first time that Dan saw the true smile of Margaret, who giggled, doing her best to stifle a laugh behind the napkin. The others laughed too, while an indignant Laura asked if what she said was funny.

When she caught her breath, Margaret took a sip of the wine, posed the cup back on the table with extreme care and turned to her son.

“Eric, I hope you take good care of this guy, he’s a very good person.”

They both flushed, fighting back a smile.

The dessert was sweet and quiet. Dan could fully enjoy the strawberry jell-o with ice cream while Laura told him about her art project and Ana about the spelling contest approaching. Margaret finished with some amazing stories about the first cases she had taken, being the ones she most fondly remembered.

About an hour later, Dan and Eric left the house, Margaret watching them disappear up the street.

“You didn’t have to come with me,” Dan said, lightly hitting his arm with Eric’s.

“What about your bad luck? If you fell down a sewer, it would be my fault.”

Dan laughed and gave him a gentle nudge.

“Plus,” continued the other, “I wanted to apologize for all the questioning. I shouldn’t have invited you in first place.”

“You’re kidding? If it was really fun. Your mother is very interesting.”

When they reached their destination, no one wanted to bid adieu. But they would meet the next day, after all. After recovering the backpack Eric had loaded all the way, Dan placed a small kiss on his cheek, crossed the garden gate and closed it behind him.

“Don’t fall down a sewer, OK?” He said.

“I promise nothing.”

Eric waited until the door closed and walked back to home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you have enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it ^^.


	12. Chapter 12

His phone rang once, twice, so much that he lost count, but he didn’t feel like picking it up right now. He wanted to go home so badly, whatsoever place rather than this particular one would be better, and yet there he was, sited on someone else’s kitchen, in a neighborhood he wasn’t familiar with, starting to feel the brutal hangover he was going to have in the morning and, on top of all, he had a damn aching broken nose.

_‘I hate alcohol,’_ he thought, throwing of the Kleenex® stained with blood and took a new one. Luckily, Masae had the finesse of getting him to the empty kitchen and providing tissues and some medication for the pain, but she refused to alight his mistreated bone, adducing she was so clumsy she could ruin it even more. Probably it was only fear of breaking a nail or watching his blood. After that, she had vanished in the air, just as Eric had.

_‘I will never, ever, drink again in my life.’_

He cursed when a stinging pain wave ran along his nose and blood started coming out again. He should go to a hospital if it continued bleeding like that; however, the strangulating pain on his chest made it even more difficult the task of breathing than his broken nose. How many times had he been rejected already? He was aware that number was between fifteen and fifty, but he couldn’t tell surely. And now, his heart was beating painfully hard, which increased the flowing jet from his nostril.

_‘That’s what I gain for making a joke.’_

It was the first time Eric actually beat him. He had threatened on doing it a lot of times before; he even tried to once, but stopped in mid air with that extremely upset look of his. And that was what had Russell anchored to him. They had been friends since they were eight, they had practically grown together and this is how everything ended. Russell knew for sure he would ruin their friendship once he confessed to Eric, but he was wrong. It got ruined once he decided he wouldn’t give up on this guy.

Years had passed and chances had come, as he took as much as he could to approach Eric from so far away. Though no-lovers had become no-friends, laughter to distant gloom glances, the ‘ _promise me…’_ sand ‘ _I trust you’_ s to _‘get the hell out of my sight’_ s, Russell knew too well that Eric rarely expressed his real feelings, being all shy and reserved, and that was what he clung to. But now he was thinking seriously of giving up on him, since every rejection ached more and more, making his heartbreaks feel a bit lonelier and a bit emptier than the previous one.

He heard footsteps getting in the kitchen, though he didn’t look up to find who was disturbing his melancholic rest. The tap creaked and water filled the vacuum of a plastic glass. He heard someone swallow noisily, and that was all he could take.

When he finally turned back on the weird bench that table had for chairs, he found the back of a tall, slender guy with blond dyed hair, suddenly coughing and putting the glass aside with way a little too much violence. His hands trembled and went to his shirt. Russell thought he was choking or something and immediately stood up to run and see if he could do something useful for once, but he stopped dead his tracks when he saw the guy stripping the upper buttons of his shirt.

The sound of the bench clattering on the floor might startled him, since he turned back quickly. Only when he was aware of Russell’s presence there, he remade the buttons and blushed so hard he looked like he would faint any moment of fever.

Russell, still a bit dazed from the pain and the excessive beers, took his time to analyze the looks of this guy. He was watching him with wide eyes, a blank expression on his face. He knew his broken nose was bad, but was it so awful for the guy to look at him like he was an alien?

“Are you alright, dude?”

The guy didn’t answer, only took the hand on his chest away. Just then, Russell realized.

It took a couple of minutes for them both to calm enough to start breathing again, and several seconds more for Russell to realize the guy had reached his side of the table and was cupping his face with one hand, while leaning down to kiss him. He could do nothing to stop him.

The brief incandescence of their chests faded as the guy kissed him tenderly, having all the gentleness to not touch his sore nose. He brushed their lips together and they found themselves in a warm embrace, even when neither of them was hugging the other. As soon as a burning tongue slid along his lower lip, asking for entrance, Russell’s pulse increased, resulting on an irremediable bleed, which came into their mouths eventually, mixing a sloppy kiss with iron and beer.

Russell broke apart, embarrassed as he had never been on his whole life. “Sorry,” he said. The guy said nothing, just looked at him and pushed his shoulders down, forcing him to seat on the bench that was magically back on its place. He took a tissue from the box that rested on the table and cleaned Russell with such a delicate manner; he almost didn’t feel the paper on his skin, just the slight heat of the hand behind it. When he finished, he cleaned his own lips and threw the tissue away.

“Can I help you with that?” His voice was deep and calm, almost a mere whisper. Unable to form any words, Russell nodded and let the guy touch his face. He palped the crooked bridge of his nose and, with no warning, he put the fractured bone on its place, making an audible crack that resonated on the empty kitchen.

When the pain lessened, he touched lightly and found no irregularities at all, like the broken bone had disappeared. “Thank you,” he said, facing for the first time his _mate_. His pale grey eyes fixed on the floor blankly. From this distance, he saw that the blond hair was irremediably natural. None of them said a word for few minutes and Russell could feel the guy tensing beside him.

“Do you want me to disappear?” He asked, looking up at him.

Russell wanted to yell that no, that he didn’t want to lose the brightness he was feeling on his heart, that he wanted to finally move on, but he wasn’t so naive, and he could feel his mate wasn’t either. There was no possible way this guy was gay and Russell didn’t want to drag him there, not when he himself still felt, and oh, he definitely felt something for Eric yet. “Give me your name, at least?” That was all he could offer him by now.

“Samwise Gamgee*.”

Russell stopped to look at the guy and started at him equally blank. “What?”

“No, I’m sorry, I’m Sam Farnham.”

“Russell Barnes.” They didn’t shake hands, as there was no reason to since they already shared an unwavering bond that would last for a life time.

That would have been the perfect moment for them to part ways, but none felt like coming back to the dark and noisy party outside the kitchen doors.

“So… Samwise, are you so expressionless all the time?” Russell asked conversationally.

Sam blinked a few times and touched his own cheek, releasing a sigh. He made his best to relax the muscles on his face, but the eternal smile had abandoned him, since he couldn’t stay like this forever. Russell loved someone else and so he himself did.

“Not at all. I think I’m still shocked.”

Russell giggled and immediately regretted it, since his nose couldn’t bear such pressure of air pushing the internal walls of the nostrils. Sam cupped his hand around Russell’s cheek until the spasm of pain disappeared and he could look at him, lightly surprised. The touch was so gentle, so natural, he was about to lean on that soft hand when Sam removed it.

“I’m sorry.” And it was not only for touching his face so suddenly, but to dare hoping there would be more than this vain conversation between them. He looked up into Russell’s green eyes and found sorrow on them, and he was the cause. “I’m really sorry I was so inopportune.” No more words to be spoken, Sam rushed out of the kitchen and out of the house. The bond tightening on their hearts, constricting them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't understand how there are people who enjoy writing angst only. This broke my kokoro.
> 
> *One of the main characters of the novel Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien.


	13. Chapter 13

Sam never cried in front of others, and was already too old to start. But now he though it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, cause he wasn’t able to stop himself. His abdomen was sore from sobbing the whole day. Now he cried uncontainable tears, silently, expressionless.

His reason told him there was no need to blame himself, but his heart claimed it was his fault. If he had paid more attention, if he had been busy trying to fix this rather than feel jealous of his best friend, Joan would still be… _‘You know she wouldn’t. She didn’t left suddenly.’_

That was true. Their relationship wasn’t going over railways since long ago, and they both agreed silently that it didn’t matter. What a mistake, of course it mattered! At least for him it did. Sure, they had stupid fights and stopped talking for a couple of days, but they always ended looking for each other to make up. The problem was that eventually they stopped making up. The resentments stayed while they made their best to ignore them, to contain every complain on the tip of the tongue, ready to be used on the next argument. The worst is that they didn’t have a last argument.

 

_“I met someone.”_

_Sam didn’t react. He expected the sudden meeting to be something like this, and he still wondered if there was a possibility he could be wrong. He didn’t look at her, just stared at his hands, crossed over the table._

_“I understand,” he muttered._

_Joan frowned, but said nothing about his indifference. She knew he was trying to make it easier, tough it still pissed her off. He felt that too._

_“Is this person…?”_

_“No.”_

_“I see.”_

_“I’m sorry.” She meant that._

_“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he said, standing up. He approached her and ruffled her soft red hair. “I wish you two the best.” He didn´t rush out of the coffee shop and certainly didn’t look back at her one last time, because he wouldn’t have resist it; his stoic mask had already a huge crack._

 

Now it was shattered.

Sam didn’t use to be so serious, especially when he was with Dan; because Dan was bright and joyful but tended to feel lonely, and Sam hated that. He liked to see him happy, that’s why he made himself a surprise box; and it worked. Dan would laugh till tears even with the most stupid joke he could do. He often suspected Dan laughed for the mere pleasure of doing it.

His phone rang: a message. Wiping another tear, he took it and found a picture of a huge teddy bear dressed as the master of ceremonies from a circus. It looked pretty to his burning eyes.

 **DAN.T.:** ERIC WON THIS AT THE AMUSSEMENT PARK.

 **SAM_FROST:** HOW ROMANTIC! HE GAVE YOU A SUPREME TEDDY BEAR. AW. I KNEW HE HAD A HEART… DEEP INSIDE.

Sam felt nasty for pretending, but didn’t want to burden others. Not when Dante was so happy having the perfect date with his mate. He wished he could have that too.

 **DAN.T.:** IT’S FOR HIS SISTER, IDIOT.

 **SAM_FROST:** EH… YOU ARE SO MEAN TO ME.

He waited for a reply that didn’t come. For a moment he felt it was really mean, then realized Dan meant nothing serious with that. In fact, if he knew he was in this state, he would ditch Eric in the spot and run to his apartment, risking his life by crossing the street at full speed without waiting for the traffic light. He would break the door down and appear at his room holding a box of peach desserts. He would turn the lights on, wipe his tears and sit by his side. He would force him to eat and wouldn’t stop poking his arm if he refused. He would make him angry and somehow find a way to make him laugh too, and then just tell him he wasn’t alone, not with words, but with his actions. _‘Dante is a really good friend…’_

* * *

 

Sam somehow picked the pieces of his heart and managed to put them together. He didn’t feel ready to go back to school yet, but couldn’t have the luxury to skip the exams without a sick note. Being that so, early Monday he was standing in Allen Wright’s gate, waiting for Dante and praying for Russell not to appear.

Leaning over the wall, just to feel less alone, he took out his phone and started tipping furiously a short message, erasing it, and tipping it again and again. When he considered enough time had passed, he pressed the send button.

 **SAM_FROST:** WHERE THE HECK ARE YOU?

The response came some seconds later.

 **DAN.T.:** I’M ON MY WAY!

Sam sighed. Surely he would appear with Eric.

Is not that he had something against him. Well, in fact, he did (for beating Dan all the way), but he couldn’t blame the guy for rejecting someone he didn’t loved, especially when the wooer was as insistent as Sam guessed Russell had been to have suffered that much. By now he could only breathe deeply and restrain his emotions. He didn’t want to worry Dan or show weakness in front of Eric.

Suddenly, they appeared turning the corner and Dan immediately spotted him there, standing on top of the stairway. He ran dodging the other students and trapped him on a tight hug of his waist, because that was as high as he could reach. After all, Sam was one of the tallest guys in the whole school. Sam ruffled his hair, teasing.

“Ok, you should let go. Eric’s looking at me as if he’s gonna kill me right here.”

“He will not. Or else he won’t have a dream summer,” Dan’s reply sounded muffled over his shirt, but loud enough for the alluded to hear it clearly. Eric blushed and looked at the ground. That was the first honest smile for Sam in days. Dante finally let go of his abdomen and suddenly jabbed his broadside with four fingers, just below the ribs. “Jerk! Why didn’t you answer my phone calls?! I was worried as hell! Don’t you dare to be my friend if you’re planning on doing that again!”

The pain made him bend down, and Dan took the opportunity to take his face in his hands and look directly into his eyes. After a moment, he stepped back and gave him time to recover before snapping. “What happened?”

For God’s sake, of course he knew. And he wasn’t polite enough for not commenting about it. Denying it would be useless. He sighed.

“Well, some… interesting things happened this weekend and…” His gray eyes found the matching asphalt as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s really nothing. You must not worry.”

“Sam… Is it… Joan?”

He wanted to turn around, hide his face and run away, but he couldn’t, that would have woken some flags on Dante. _‘There’s absolutely no need of me to burden people with my stupid problems. Yes, my girlfriend dumped me, my soul mate left me. I can live with that. I must.’_

“Kind of. Nothing I cannot handle. I’ll tell you some other time.”

“Yes, but-”

“Apparently,” Eric interrupted, talking for the first time, “we need to hurry, you see. We have only five minutes before the exam starts. Let’s go.” He pushed Dan’s shoulders, making him walk inside the school before he could complain. Sam watched them go, and when Eric turned around to look at him over his shoulder, Sam gesticulated a quiet “thanks” with the lips. Eric smiled back and kept walking.

_‘Great, now I owe him one.’_


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey :D  
> I'm sorry for the big delay. Life is bussy right now.  
> Hope you enjoy :)

Eric sighed as he crossed the door of the classroom and got out to the corridors, already filled up with students hurrying up for lunch. He quickly spotted the light blond hair of Sam and dodged some students to reach him, hopping Dan was with him. He was not. In fact, as soon as Eric recognized the back of the person who walked with Sam, he backed up a bit, watching theme from a decent distance. Fast enough, Russell went away, almost tripping into some random student, due to his insistence on looking down at his feet while walking.

He watched as Sam carded a hand on blond locks and exhaled heavily, resuming the hike, cafeteria as destination. Then he wondered. And he didn’t know it at the moment, but he wondered right, nevertheless, not a single word about it would slip from his thin lips. Being that so, he pondered his words carefully as he finally approached the guy and touched his forearm. “Hey,” Eric said simply, deciding it was for the best to feign ignorance and be as brief as possible since he and Sam weren’t exactly friends. He was just his mate's buddy. For now. He vaguely remembered that having friends felt nice; he wanted to experience that again, and Sam seemed like a good option to start. Nevertheless, he was genuinely concerned for the guy, depression almost visibly dripping down his pores.

“Oh, you,” Sam said, and Eric frowned lightly. He thought probably his own face was the last one the guy would want to see at that precise moment, but it was already too late to vanish without being rude. Sam smiled nonchalantly. “Hey, thanks for earlier. Sometimes Dan losses sense of personal boundaries, you know? Avoid as much as you can to trust secrets into him. When he’s nervous, he might spill out any piece of information that’s accessible in his brain.”

Eric frowned deeper, realizing he was already sharing important secrets with the boy. He pushed the fact to a corner of his mind and tried to follow the conversation. “It’s nothing. I guessed you just needed privacy on that whatever issue that is bothering you.”

“Ah, you’re right.” Sam released a little giggle (a nervous one, Eric would bet.)

“Sooo… Have you been buddies with Dante since long ago?” He asked, changing the matter to give some ease to the boy.

Sam thanked him in silence. “Hmm, since we were six, if I’m not mistaken. We’ve been classmates since kinder, but we didn’t talk to each other until elementary school. But well, have you been in love with him since long ago?”

Eric frowned as much as his brows would go and flushed furiously. “Look who’s talking! What about Russ-?” It was too late, the truth had been exposed. Sam’s wide eyes were the confirmation. _‘Oh, shit…’_

“Uwaa! I’m sorry! Forget I said that! I’m so sorry!”

Sam covered his mouth with a hand and Eric got alarmed as he thought the boy was about to cry, but froze when he identified little giggles that quickly burst into laughing “It’s fine. It’s my fault for teasing you.” Sam chuckled, patting the guy on the shoulder and recovering his breath. “On exchange, could you please not tell Dante?”

Even though he nodded in agreement, he kept mumbling a long yarn of apologies that only he could understand whilst the taller boy made his best to make him quite. _‘How stupid can I be?! Now he knows I know! Damn it!’_ His unending volley finally stopped when he felt something weird on the right side of his body. He would describe it as a burning; only he didn’t know if of heat or cold; could be both, could be either. The only thing he was sure about is that it wasn’t bothersome at all.

“Hey, guys!” Dante’s cheerful greet came gritty, so he cleared his throat and repeated it, equally energetic. He placed a hand on Eric’s shoulder, and the sensation spread out trough his whole body, lasting only a few seconds. _‘What did just…?’_

He had no time to concentrate on it as his line of thoughts got cut by a talking Dante declaring he was hungry as a wolf, and who pushed them both to the cafeteria. Eric only could wonder if Dan had felt it too.

During lunch, Eric felt awkward for not sitting in his usual place (alone in a corner), but yet clearly noticed that Sam wasn’t really with them. The guy somehow managed to keep the conversation going, but his smiles were excessive and not as bright as his hair any longer. He tried to shoot some glances at his mate whenever Sam looked down at his food (not actually eating, rather playing with it), but Dan only looked back at him for a brief second before digging back into casual chat, offering no clue of noticing that something was wrong.

* * *

 

“What do you think I should do?” Dante asked him on their walk back home that afternoon.

“I beg your pardon?”

“About Sam, I mean,” he said, slowing down his pace. “He looks really depressed.”

_‘So you did notice after all.’_

Eric remained silent for few moments, trying to find some good advice. He made his best to recall every time he had had a friend in trouble that needed his help: not even once; because it was always Russell who had offered his hand whenever he couldn’t stand up by himself. _‘And you turned him down when he decided to be selfish for once.’_

“Do you know what’s bugging him?” He asked, dissipating the thought into thin air.

Dan pursed the lips. “No. Do you?” He sighed heavily. “And it doesn’t look like he’s gonna tell me.”

 _‘Crap.’_ Eric shook his head. Well, it wasn’t exactly a lie since he didn't know exactly what had happened between Sam and Russell, but he suspected it had been serious. “Maybe he has a good reason for not telling you.”

The boy stopped to look up at him. “You think?”

“You’re best friends, aren’t you? He knows he can trust you.” He said, stopping as well.

“Then why he doesn’t tell me?” Dan questioned to no one in particular.

“Maybe he’s not ready to talk about it.”

Dante pushed his glasses up his nose, thoughtfully. “I guess you’re right”

“As always,” he teased, attempting to make his mate smile.

The boy bit his bottom lip to hold back the laughter, but couldn’t fight it for long, the corners of his mouth curling wider and wider between the giggles. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” he laughed. “Oh, and I’ve been thinking about something.”

Eric looked at him, wondering if the boy ever stopped thinking about things. “What is it?”

“Remember the guy you told me about? Russell was his name?” Eric nodded, not liking much where this was going. “You should apologize to him.”

“What? The hell you’re talking about?”

“He’s your friend too. He surely is sad that someone who was his friend and who he has a crush with rejected him so awfully.”

Eric stared at him, not knowing what to say. He wanted to argue, to shout at the boy how wrong he was for having mercy with someone like Russell (who, by the way, had threatened with hurting Dan), but the words wouldn’t spill out of his mouth. And he didn’t feel like fighting with Dante right now either. “I-I’ll think about it,” was all he could manage.

 

They walked in silence for some minutes, their hands hanging on their sides at mere inches. Suddenly, Eric found himself struggling to contain an almost irresistible urge to touch the velvety skin of Dante’s hand. His fingers trembled in the faintest of the motions as he swallowed hard. The same irradiation of that morning burning at the end of his nerves.

“You know, you don’t have to restrain yourself.” Carefully, Dan glanced at him with the cheeks slightly covered by a dust of pink.

“Eh? But I supposed you wouldn’t-”

Dan’s eyes grimaced, replacing the embarrassment for a scolding frown “I don’t see why you would think such a thing.” He deadpanned. “I don’t mind holding hands with you, so please, stop assuming dumb facts about me.”

Eric was at a loss of words as the boy took his hand and dragged him some steps forward, because he was just so shocked that couldn’t walk either. _‘This guy…’_ But in the end he couldn’t complain, as the warm of his mate was too comforting.

He dropped Dante in his house and had only crossed a couple of streets when he felt his phone buzz inside his pocket. Quickly, he took it out and answered the call, not bothering on looking who it was.

“Hello?”

_“Hi, honey. How are you?”_

“Oh. Hi, mom. I’m walking home right now.”

_“Good. I think I’ll be late tonight, so could you, please, make dinner? Ana is staying the night, by the way.”_

“What? Doesn’t she have school tomorrow?”

_“Yes, but her mom asked me to take care of her for tonight because her father is in the hospital.”_

 “I see. OK, I’ll cook something.”

_“Thank you. And make sure they don’t go to sleep late.”_

Eric sighed at the speaker. “Yes, mom.” Taking care of dinner was one thing, but babysitting two little girls at the same time was another story. He prayed they weren’t eating candy already.

_“Good. See you later, honey.”_

“Bye, mom.” Resigned, he made a quick stop in the house to check at the girls and grab some extra money and walked absolutely not eagerly to the closest grocery store (which was still kind of far).

While walking, he munched silently at Dante’s words. _“He’s your friend too.”_

 _‘I wish that was true.’_ Indeed, Eric wouldn’t have mind to keep being friends with Russell after he first confessed to him. Sure, he was thrilled at first, but Russ was still an important person to him, and he didn’t want to lose him. Until his persistence got the nerves out of him. _‘I don’t hate him. I hate that he can’t give up on me.’_

With those thoughts, he entered the store and went directly to the vegetable aisle to get some onions and mushrooms. _‘But Russ must hate me now,’_ he thought, beginning to rummage through the white and round onions and putting the ones he liked into a plastic bag. He sighed heavily; starting to think he might have done the wrong decision about punching the guy. _‘Maybe I do need to apologize.’_

A sudden touch on his arm startled him up. “Excuse me,” said a voice at his back, “would you please move… Eric?”

He turned around and found a pair of extremely familiar green eyes. _‘Speaking of the Devil.’_

There was Russell, holding and empty plastic bag, apparently attempting to grab some onions as well. Eric moved aside and stared at the guy. “Hey.”

“Hey,” the other greeted simply, diverting his sight and fixing his attention on choosing some onions. “You cooking tonight?” He asked, still not looking at him.

“Yeah.” Eric answered.

“Me too. My brother is so stubborn about the food I always end up cooking pasta.”

Eric remained silent for few moments (not only because he had thought about making pasta too. Apparently all kids loved it.) He pondered carefully the words he was about to say, but decided that was not the right place to say them.

“Would you… would you mind if I invite you a coffee?”

This time Russell looked up at him and blinked a couple times before nodding.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm back. :3  
> Hope you enjoy. <3

As soon as they stepped inside the coffee shop, Russell started regretting his decision. His pride had already been turned down, and now, he was forced to this? _‘I should have only taken the stupid onions and leave!’_ He thought, biting his lower lip.

They sat next to the window, where they both could feign that the wonderful early summer landscape of the empty parking lot was as interesting as they might consider necessary.

After the waiter brought their others, several long moments passed before either of them spoke. Russell maintained his gaze fixed on his coffee, trying not to grip too hard the plastic cup, still chewing his lip. _‘What kind of situation is this?’_ The coffee shop was almost empty; aside from a woman who was scratching a fountain pen on a notebook a few tables away. Even the staff seemed too absent. And despite having all the privacy they could have on a public establishment, it was uncomfortable to look at Eric's face.

“I...” He heard Eric sighing, yet didn’t look up at him. “I'm sorry.” The boy made a pause, so Russell could reply if he had the necessity. He kept quiet. “I shouldn’t have harmed you.”

Seconds ran out, and Russell had a little sip of his iced coffee, in an eagerly try to swallow the saliva that wouldn’t go down his throat by itself. “Don’t apologize, I get why you did it,” he muttered. “It was fair.”

“No it was not.” The boy replied. Russ could almost feel Eric’s blazing eyes on him, as if piercing through his skull. “I could have only left the damn place.”

 _‘Then why you didn’t?’_ Russell’s chest burned, and he released the air he wasn’t aware of been holding in a long, quiet pant.

“There’s nothing to be done about it, so forget it.” He remarked. His neck came tense; tired of holding the dead weight of his head, so he rose up and rested an elbow in the table to place his chin on his closed fist, ignoring the boy’s gaze as he watched out of the window.

Russell narrowed his eyes slightly, suddenly detecting a strange heft inside his stomach. Was that… guilt? _‘Oh, gosh.’_ How on earth could that be possible? He had absolutely no reason to feel guilty, it was _Eric’s_ fault. Eric rejected him, beat him, he shattered his heart so many times; and now he was apologizing?!

 _‘Wait. He IS apologizing. That means… he feels remorse.’_ The pressure inside him throbbed at the same pace he felt the beatings of his heart on the chest. So it hit him. He felt guilty for making Eric regret things, for making him worried. And that made him irrationally annoyed, confused, _dirty_.

_‘I’m a fucking mercenary.’_

“I can’t erase what I did, but-” Eric was interrupted by an angry puff that Russell had made sure not to show him ever before.

“Look, I said it was fine.” He stood up, putting both hands over the table. “If that’s all you have to say, I may go now.” He pushed the chair back slightly with the back of his knees as he picked the bag full of onions off the table.

“No, wait! That’s not all.” Eric said, stopping him by the wrist.

Russ took a deep breath and sat down again. _‘Well, I guess I shall apologize too.’_

Moments passed, and the only sounds on the shop were their breaths and the fountain pen scratching furiously on the paper. Russell wondered what the woman would be writing. Maybe a novel. Yes, she was probably a novelist who liked sitting in this particular coffee shop and just write about her surroundings. He wondered if she was writing about them right now, and if she would give the characters the happy ending he could never have.

“Look, I know this may not be my business, but I have to ask.” Surprised, Russell noticed he had been staring at Eric’s hands the whole time, and sat straighter, to look up at his face, almost unconsciously. “What’s with Sam?”

He contained a yelp. He looked at Eric with wide eyes, unable to stop himself. How could he know, right? Actually, DID he know something? “What about him?” He mumbled.

“I saw you talking this morning,” Eric spoke calmly. “I didn’t hear the conversation, but he looked depressed as hell.”

Russ frowned, subsequently, raised his brows in disbelief. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Then, he huffed. The memory was actually strange.

That morning, he had seen Sam in the corridors. Well, rather, ran into him as he walked while inspecting his suddenly extremely interesting shoes. The exam hadn’t gone as well as he’d like to. His grades were fine, but he couldn’t afford the luxury of lowering his average now. And as regret wasn’t an option, he somehow concluded that looking how the gray laces of his vans waved as he walked was the definitive excuse for such neglect.

But the gray shoelaces remembered him of some gray eyes that had been around the whole weekend. Mournful, bereaved, even betrayed gray eyes owned by someone he had hurt deeply in less than ten minutes. A strange tingle ran down his body, but he ignored it, too busy pondering what color he would buy a new pair of laces.

The thumb nail he had catched in his teeth got scratched as he crushed fully with someone’s back. The tingled disappeared. He looked up to see who he had dared to walk into this time and froze completely as he recognized the eyes he was so desperately trying to forget a moment ago.

The conversation they had was little, consisting of apologies by Russell’s part and… Well, he actually didn’t remember much more. He only had time to catch a breathtaking smile before he looked back down and invented a quick excuse, followed by a formal farewell.

“Duh,” Eric’s voice deadpanned. “Did you suddenly go dense?”

“Huh?”

“He was acting! Dante told me he does it regularly.”

Russell tilted his head at the same time he reached for his coffee and had another sip to calm down his nerves. He wanted to meditate deeply the acting issue, but the newest piece of information captive his attention.

“Acting? That’s not possible. And who’s Dante?”

“Dante is my mate. I told you last Friday!”

“Oh.” He really had a lot of memory gaps of that night, save the failed kiss, the broken nose and, of course, what happened in the kitchen. He still hadn’t decided if he loved or hated that kitchen. “Sorry.”

“Look,” Eric said, and gulped down half of his black coffee. “I don’t care what the fuck happened between you two, but you should fix it, for the sake of _you both_.”

He had thought about it for days, but still felt he had screwed things too bad to be mended. “I want to. I just… don’t know how to fix it,” he informed with a heavy sigh.

“Probably you only need to apologize. It often works.” Russ couldn’t help but smile at Eric’s _I know what I’m talking about_ face (the very same he wore at science conversations.)

Maybe the realization that he could still smile honestly around this boy was the trigger that sent a wave of confidence through him, or maybe he was just desperate to share it with someone, but either way, he told Eric about what happened in the party, omitting nothing.

“Yes, just go and apologize,” the boy almost whispered once he was finished.

“But… what if he rejects me? I don’t think I can take that.” He skipped the _again_ willingly.

“I highly doubt that. And whatever happens, you’ll improvise something. You’re good at it.”

He bitted his bottom lip. “Can… can I call you if something happens?” Russ said before he could stop himself. Immediately, he cover his mouth with one hand in realization.

“Hell no.” Russ’ heart skipped a couple of beats. _‘Seriously?! I finally decide to move on and you still have that ogre attitude?!’_

“But you can write, ONLY if it’s an emergency, understood?” He sneered, tough smiling shortly.  “I’ll send you Sam’s address latter.”

“What?”

“Won’t you go and do it right now?”

“But-”

“No buts. I’m trying to make up for breaking your nose, so accept my kindness; I don’t go spreading it every day.”

“Yes, but-” Eric glared at him threateningly. “T-thanks. I’m on my way, then. Kid’s alone it the house.”

“Oh, gosh, mine too!”

They both stood up and left money on the table. Russ gave the writer a last glance —she smiled back—, and walked out the establishment.

“Say hi to your mom and sis for me.”

“Sure.”

They waved hands and part ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, the end was maybe too forced, but I couldn't handle much more of this looooooong scene.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uff! Finally. :D  
> Double content just for you, boys and girls.

Around four o'clock, a knock on the door returned him to the real world. He felt his hand wet, and realized that he had been filling the vessel until almost all the water from the jug had spilled. Quickly, he dried his hands with a kitchen cloth and ran to open the door. A short, bespectacled boy smiled up at him.

“Dan...” He couldn’t hide his surprise; he really did not expect this visit so soon. And he was so happy to have survived the day...

“May I come in?”

Sam noticed that he was blocking the entrance path, so he moved aside. He turned for a mere second to close the door, and when he turned his attention back to the boy, he was laying on the floor, rubbing his lower back.

“I slipped,” the boy said simply before the questioning look of Sam, who rolled his eyes and helped him stand up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just...” The words died in his throat and Sam glanced towards the kitchen, where Dan was watching, and saw there were wet footprints all over the floor. He then looked down at his feet and found the completely soaked sneakers. Dan directed him a silent request he chose to ignore, but should have been more aware of the tactlessness of his friend.

“Sam? Tell me what the hell is going on,” he demanded.

“It’s nothing. I simply got distracted and had a little accident,” he lied with a little simper.

“Got distracted with?”

Sam noticed the palms of his hands starting to sweat, and tears pooled in the back of his eyes. “Do you really want to know?” He said, and struggling to keep a casual attitude, avoided eye contact stooping down to remove the shoes and socks.

Dan furrowed the brows. He stepped forward and, taking advantage of his position, he grabbed the collar of his shirt, forcing him to look at him in the face. “Samuel Farnham,” he warned, “the only reason I came is because I’m worried about you, so I expect you to correspond to my desperate attempts of being a good friend.

In a first impulse he wanted to laugh, deny everything and disguise the panic with some poor joke. But his jaw was rigid, making him unable to open his mouth. Tears kept behind his eyes, yet he looked away, ashamed, _defeated_. _‘It no longer works… I’m useless. I can’t even make him happy.’_

“Have a sit,” he said, pointing the couch. “I’ll bring some drinks.”

Once he had entered the kitchen, he closed the swinging door and leaned over the still soaked counter. He breathed deeply to calm himself down, but it was useless. _‘I’m a horrible excuse of human being.’_ A chill ran through his body, and a single tear escaped his eyelids. _‘No! Dante is out there! You need to calm down!’_

As soon as he heard the unmistakable creak of the hinges of the door, he quickly wiped his face and took a cloth to wipe up the spilled water. He gritted his teeth when the approaching footsteps reached the pond soil. Sam refused to look up, frantically moving the arm rubbing cloth on the wet surface. But soon he could no longer do so, for a hand held his wrist.

He tried to escape, but Dan gripped him tightly.

“Sam…” his friend whispered. “Please, tell me what's wrong.”

“It's nothing. You don’t need to...”

 

“I'm already very worried... please, let me help.”

His chest hurt so much that he thought he would die right there. “You don’t have to. I'm fine.” Then he dedicated him the best smile he could offer, and felt pathetic, because his lips trembled and tears rolled down his cheeks uncontrollably.

Through teary eyes, he could see that Dante contained a sigh as he took his hand and lead him out of the kitchen. He forced him to sit on the couch, then disappeared into the door of his room to reappear moments later with a blanket in one hand and a box of tissues that would have been taken from the bathroom in the other. He put the blanket around him, covering his head, sat down beside him and gently wiped his tears. He didn’t speak, just waited until he had calmed down enough to breathe normally before shuffling his hair smoothly.

“If you want to talk, I'm here,” he reminded him, and then confusion washed over him because didn’t know if it was a disaster that things had come to this or whether that he needed to accept that he couldn’t keep lying and lean on Dante when he could no longer sustain himself. _‘Both,’_ he decided, and inhaled deeply, keeping the air in his lungs as long as possible. _‘I'm useless, but I'm not alone...’_ He almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of those words, as being lonely was the only thing he had left, it was his only way out. However, Dante had begun to poke his shoulder slightly a few minutes ago, and it was annoying.

“Dan… stop.”

“Under no circumstances can you believe to be right if you think I'm leaving until you're happy, I don’t care if I have to beg for asylum at your home.”

“You think my mom will let you stay?” Dante opened his mouth to object, but Sam, stifling a sob cut him off. “The last time you did, a valuable vase ended up in pieces.”

“In my defense,” the boy said, adjusting his glasses, “that valuable piece of pottery was located in a very unsuitable place for a home with children running around.”

“Error,” Sam said quietly. “It was misplaced for a household with a child and his friend tripping over the shelf.”

Dan pouted and gave him a gentle push to one side. “You know I paid for that vase. When will you stop bothering me for that?”

“What are you talking about?” He said, smiling slightly. “That is my only fun.”

Dan's smile disappeared. “Since… when is that?”

_‘Damn, when will I learn to shut up? ...’_

“I'm just exaggerating,” he lied, and his voice was fuller of regret than e wanted. “It's no big deal.”

“Sam... is okay if you don’t want to talk about it, but I really want to help, and I can’t unless you tell me what happens.”

“Really, is not so important. I'm a crybaby, I'll be fine.”

“What are you talking about? I’ve never is seen you crying before,” Dan said, almost in awe.

Sam sighed. And now that he thought about it, things were not so bad. He could really live with it. In addition, Dan no longer needed him, so no one would care if things went bankrupt. If he could forget about his problems and coping with a busy life, he would be fine. But he didn’t want to see more of that stricken face in Dante.

“I cut with Joan,” he said simply.

“...What? Why?”

He took a deep breath, and completely zestless, proceeded to tell Dan about the weekend’s events, only being interrupted occasionally by clarification questions. His friend was serious; he might even be frozen while looking into his eyes. Once he finished, his lips —the only vital sign on the boy— were parted on the slightest of the gaps.

“Well,” Dan said in a soft voice, “apparently the world is a shorter handkerchief than I dared to believe.” Sam chuckled, and thrilled himself as that had been the only sincere laugh that had came out his mouth since Friday. Yes, his heart was healing well.

* * *

 

Dan left around an hour later, almost running out the place just as some rain drops started drumming on the windows. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” He shouted cheerfully from the opposite end of the corridor. Sam waved a hand to him and closed the door.

This time he did actually clean the kitchen properly before filling a new glass of water and drinking it slowly, in small sips. He sat on the couch, turned on the TV and surfed around the channels to find nothing pleasant, so he turned it off again. Sighing, he inspected the screen of his phone to check the hour and found a text message from Dan, sent around half an hour ago.

 **DAN.T.:** I’M SO SORRY…

_‘Sorry? For what?’_

Then, he heard knocks on the front door. _Again._

Reluctantly, he stood up and plodded towards the main entrance of the apartment. As soon as he opened the door and looked down at the person in front of him, he swung it back closed, without saying a word.

 _‘What the fuck is_ he _doing here?!’_ Sam wanted to shout, to punch anything, kill somebody and then be buried to die six feet underground. His breath went erratic, and —surprisingly— warmth crept up his face.

Through the tarnished glass his breath caused on the peephole, he watched as Russell looked down at his feet, put his hands in his pockets and, sighing, turned around, then faced the door again and opened his mouth to say something, but his jaw got hanging still for a second.

“Sam?” He heard his name being called through the tick wood. “If you’re there, I beg you to listen for a minute.”

Trying to recover his senses, Sam was unable to do anything but to look out the peephole and pray for his lungs to start working properly again. He had no more options; yet, a tickling sensation in the internal walls of his skull told him that it might be of interest to listen what the guy had to say.

“Look, I… I’m really sorry for what I did to you. I know I hurt you really bad and that I don’t deserve merci, still, I…” Russell bit his bottom lip and said something under his breath, so Sam couldn’t quite hear it. “This is pointless… You certainly hate me now, don’t you?” The question pierced his chest as if it had been made of steel; the barrier between them offering no protection. “I’m sorry for the intrusion.”

Startled, Sam watched as he turned his back to the door, his figure contrasting with the convex lines of the walls in the glass of the peephole. His heart raced, sending adrenaline furiously against his veins and through his systems. His whole body tensed.

Sam found himself opening the door and graving Russell’s arm before he could prevent it. Russell looked at him in awe. His hair and the shoulders of his jacket were darkened, moist of raindrops. His jaw started working without getting to form any coherent word so he shut it and a soft blush covered his cheeks. Sam couldn´t help but find it cute. Then he slapped himself mentally. _‘Focus, you klutz!’_

“How did you get my address?” He inquired, clearing his throat huskily.

“I… it’s kind of a long story,” Russell murmured. Sam tightened the grip in his arm slightly. “Well, I… kind of begged Eric to help me get it… I’m sorry.”

The arm below his hand was cold, too much for a late May day, and the emerald eyes looking at him seemed so ashamed…

“Would you like to come in?”

Russell followed him inside with evident hesitation.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again once they were sat on the couch; two cups of tea resting on the coffee table. “I know I did something terrible and-”

“No,” Sam interrupted. “No one is forced to accept their soul mates. You chose not to, and that’s fine. If you love someone else, then-”

“But that’s my point,” Russell interrupted as well. “I… I do not. When all this started, I knew I had to turn the page, to choose you, but I was afraid of being exposed again. It was selfish of me. I didn’t even consider how you felt.”

Sam sensed a stunning sore in the chest, a chill running through his body, a sad smile curving his lips. He now saw a new level of humanity in this guy, and it made him tremendously sad, knowing he would never see it again.

“You should keep that selfishness.”

He had his gaze fixed on his lap, striving for the emotions not to pour outside of him. _‘Is for the best; pushing him away.’_

“What… do you mean?”

“I’m saying… that we shouldn’t be together.”

The horrified look on Russell’s face didn’t go unnoticed, even if he wasn’t looking at him.

“…What? Why?” Russell gasped. Sam could feel the pain in those words as clear as the one inside of him. Great, now he was breaking a heart once again. He thought about making a quick excuse and finish the suffering already, but Russell deserved the true version of the facts. He knew he’d feel more alone than ever that night; nonetheless he proceeded to explain himself anyway.

“Because you’ll end up hurt.  You are a good person, Russell. You deserve better than someone as selfish and useless as me.”

“You have no right to say that.” That hushed statement took him by surprise. He opened his eyes wide, though still not looking up. “You don’t know me, how can you tell who or what I deserve?” Russell’s voice had a heavy note of annoyance in it.

“That’s right,” he retorted calmly, “but you don’t know me either. You are not aware how much of trash I am; anyone deserves better. Please, I’m trying to avert you a worst pain in the future, just go away already, find someone who can take care of you properly, who can make you happy…”

“But, Sam...” He felt a light brush on his hair and cringed. “How could I leave you now when you’re renouncing to your own happiness in order for others to be happy?”

“How can you state such a thing?” He replied with a soft huff.

“Because you’re crying.”

Russell then took his shoulders and encircled him in a tight embrace. The tears he hadn’t been aware of landed on Russell’s shirt, wetting the already moist but warm fabric. Sam’s hands rested on his chest.

“I don’t care what you do or say, I’m not going anywhere far from you, Sam. You don’t need to feel lonely anymore, I’m here for you,” he promised softly but firmly in his ear, squeezing him closer.

“Please, don’t,” Sam said between quiet sobs. “You shouldn’t worry for me. I must be the one worrying, not you.”

“That’s not fair, Sam. You’re not a Superhero; you can’t go doing all the work by yourself. That is indeed selfish.”

“I am selfish, I hate it. That’s why-”

“That’s why you should let me take care of you as well.”

Sam felt his heart sinking deeper into his chest. How could he say that so heedlessly? Did he know what he was getting himself into? No, he had no idea. And Sam wouldn’t allow him to get it, he had to protect as much of him as he could. He tried to pull away and failed.

“If I let you, you’ll regret it.”

“Test me.”

Control. He had to keep in control… Fuck, he was not in control at all. “I’m afraid to do so.”

_‘You’ll hate me…’_

“We’re mates, aren’t we? Things will work out.” Now the brunet was caressing the back of his neck, sending shudders Sam desperately tried to contain. If Russell felt them, he said nothing about it.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I do.”

“That’s no valid argument.”

God. He had to escape somehow or he’d be giving up soon, he’d fall right into his claws. But he was tired and sweet smell of Russell’s cologne and the soft curve of his neck weren’t helping either. He felt an irremediable urge of nuzzling into it, instead, he pushed into the other’s chest, making a determined effort for put a reasonable distance between them. This time, Russell allowed him to pull away, but only enough for him to look at his face without letting go. _‘Good Lord…’_

“What if we both can be happy?”

Eyes closed, he took a deep breath, praying for willpower. “What if we’re not? I thought you didn’t want to expose yourself again.”

“I’m willing to take the risk for you.”

Russell cupped his check with a hand, just as he himself had made on their first encounter. Sam yet didn’t believe how careless he had been that day, but couldn’t blame the alcohol, as he hadn’t drunk a single drop. He cursed for his own stupidity and looked aside, not moving.

“That’s not-”

“Oh, shut up already, Samwise.”

And he had to as Russell laid a chaste, quick peck on the lips; well, before actually kissing him for real in a tender way, just as their first kiss. The difference was that Sam could feel an invisible magnet drawing him to his mate, and any kind of hesitation left his thoughts, disappearing into thin air. His arms moved almost involuntarily from Russell’s chest to his slim waist. Before he knew it, he was returning the kiss.

“You happy now?” He said once they had parted.

“Yup, very much.”

“Well, I hope you don’t regret this decision since I won’t let you go away now.”

Russell gave him a stunning beam. “I’m waiting no less.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accept gladly any feedbacks ;).


	17. Chapter 17

OK, he had to admit it. He was edgy and almost quivering like a leaf in the windy Fall. The bench they were sited at suddenly became utterly uncomfortable, the light shirt constricting his torso, making his breathing difficult. Eric must have felt him stirring on the seat, for he took his hand gently.

“Hey, calm down, Dante. There’s no reason to panic.”

“I’m not nervous!” He yelped.

Eric smiled at him reassuringly, and even let himself laugh a bit at. Dan felt stunned, for the last time he had felt this nervous, Eric and his devilish smirk had been the main cause. Now, his mate looked at him with calm eyes, the sensation electrifying his nerves wherever he touched his hand. God, how fast had their relationship changed. Three weeks ago Eric had beaten him until the bruises on his body were bleeding jets; and now they were all lovey dovey having a double date; well, mostly waiting for Sam and Russell to appear.

Dan inspected his watch. “They certainly are taking their time.”

“Actually, is not time yet. Is we who arrived half an hour earlier.”

“Being early is a matter of politeness. I hope you remember that for future occasions. Yet, the wait is killing my sanity right now.”

“Hey, seriously, relax. It was you who insisted to meet the idiot.”

He had to grant Eric the truth. Even though his mate together with Sam had begged him to think about that twice or three times more, Dan had claimed that he must meet who this Russell person was. For now, the guy had been a mere idea, a piece of paper with some random notes on it, forgotten somewhere in his desk. Yet, a sheet which managed to affect Sam in the deepest of the ways (for good or bad) and, like Eric had told him as his most valuable argument, threatened with tear them apart just few days ago.

But Sam was happy now, so much more than the last few months when his relationship with Joan had started wavering. His smile had gradually recovered its freshness and his laugh was gleefully upsetting again. So Russell couldn’t be that bad of a person, right?

Or that’s what he thought until this morning, when it occurred to him that maybe the guy was exclusively kind to Sam.

“Well, I don’t think so. He was never mean to me, but remember he was in love with me as well,” Eric said once he had communicated his concerns. That didn’t tranquilize him. However, he could not rewind the tape now, so all left to do was being valiant and wear the best smile he had at disposal. His stomach hurt.

“Whose was this double date idea again?” Dan asked, feeling the agony crawling in his chest.

“Yours, my dear,” Eric answered, employing the term he had started using some days ago, not as an affectionate appellative rather than a teaser one.

“Oh, well, dishonor on me.”

“Oh, c’mon. If things don’t go well, we can always call it a day and leave the butterflies by themselves,” Eric proposed, giving his hand a soft squeeze.

“No. That’d be rude,” Dan breathed, then huffed softly. “I can do this. I’ve outlasted worse.”

“Really? I can’t think of a more twisted situation like this?”

_‘That’s not reassuring…’_

“How about your fists bruising my body?”

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

“Nah, I'm teasing you, dear.” Dan wasn't one to take advantage of when to words it came, and he was already making sure Eric realized that. Yet, he kissed his cheek softly and his mate blushed. _‘I don’t get tired of that.’_

“What’re you doing? We’re in the middle of the mall!”

“Who cares? This place is so full no one will care. What, are you saying you’re ashamed of being seen with me?”

“NO!” Eric belied in a mix of a whimper and a whisper. Dan smiled. “I would never think that! Is just that…” and he made a pause to glance quickly around, “we’re attracting the attention.”

Dan looked around as well, and spotted some passers who were looking at them with estranged looks. Some girls were smiling expectantly. _‘Oh, no. Fangirls.’_ This was not good at any term. As for being in the literature and inevitable fanfiction world for some years already, Dan was familiar with the abilities of the fangirls, and their capacity to turn even the straightest and manliest character into a sentimental mess, let alone those who were already not that much chaotic. And he and Eric were certainly the perfect target for their not so chaste imagination, or eyes…

“Don’t feel mortified. You get used to it,” an unknown voice stated, pulling him out of his thoughts. Eric let go of his hand when they stood up of the bench and faced the two people right behind them.

“Ah, finally,” said Eric, approaching a couple of steps. Dan right beside him. Sam waved his hand hello to both of them.

“Let me make the introductions,” said Sam, more ceremoniously than needed. “Dante, this is Russell Barnes; Russ, this is my best friend, Dante Henson.”

Both boys looked at each other and shook hands. Russell was a handsome thin guy, slightly taller than Eric, but still shorter than Sam. His tanned skin and dark mahogany hair highlighted his emerald eyes, and he was beaming at him as he greeted.

“Nice to meet you,” said Russell, giving him back his hand.

Dante opened his mouth to give the guy a proper and required answer and closed it when he saw Russell reverencing to him right here, in the middle of the mall in an occidental country with an occidental culture in which people didn’t use to bow before no one.

“I’m deeply sorry for all the trouble I’ve might caused you and your mate. It was disrespectful and pretentious from my part.”

Dan cringed slightly and noticed Eric and Sam alarming as well in his peripheral sight. Passers returned their attention to them.

“Ah… Please, stand properly. There’s no need for apologies like that.”

Russ straightened the spine, but kept his gaze fixed on him. “I must thank you for all you’ve done for me already. As I’ve been told, you’re taking great care of Eric, and you even got Sam and I together. I don’t know how I could repay you.”

Dan blushed slightly. “Oh, I didn’t do such things. As I’ve been told,” Dan used his own words, not in jape, just because he saw the opportunity to use the expression in real life for once, “it was Eric who did talk to you, and is he who mostly takes care of me. I did absolutely nothing.”

“Well, Eric didn’t talk to me about it,” Sam remarked. Russ rounded his shoulders with his arm and said, “And it was you who provided Sam’s address to me. Without that information, we wouldn’t be here.”

Dan didn’t know what to say. The guy was really looking for reasons to thank him, even when getting people together was the most disrespectful intrusion of personal intimacy. With Sam was ok, they had enough experience handling each other through all these years of friendship, but now Dan realized he had intervened in an unknown person’s life; his romantic life, over all.

“Wankers, this place is getting crowded,” Eric interjected. “Can we continue this conversation somewhere else? Plus, Russell, stop praising my mate already. You make him uncomfortable with that cocky smile of yours.”

He rounded Dan from behind, drawing him into his chest, protectively. Dan felt clearly the heat rising up to his hair line. Sam and Russell looked at each other, startled for a moment, then burst into laughter. The bespectacled boy wanted to reply, but his mouth wouldn’t let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're thinking, this big delay for such a short and crappy chapter, but I wanted to update while I think of something better. Ha ha ha. Yeah...


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm still alive. Out of shape, though.

Summer break finally came. A suffocating heat settled in the air, radiating from the asphalt and walls of the buildings. No clouds were at eye sight range and the city looked at its best moment.

But Dan didn’t have time right now for all that crap. He was way too busy worrying how much Eric would tease him for being late to they’re date. He could even hear the guy’s voice quoting his own words, _«Being early is a matter of politeness. I hope you remember that for future occasions»._

_´Me and my big mouth’._

There were knocks on the door of his room, and he ran to open it, still with the hair all messy, the toothbrush in his mouth and the shirt hanging on only one side of his body. As soon as his mother identified his state, she gave him a condescending look.

“Running late?”

“Oh, mum. Haph medcy.”

“Sweety, it’s not my fault you overslept.”

“You coud haph wokem me ub,” he reproached, then took the tooth brush out and rushed towards the bathroom. France followed him and fixed herself against the door frame.

Dan finished brushing his teeth at full speed and managed to find the other sleeve at the fifth try. “Can I help you with something?” He asked as he looked at her in the mirror while attempting to button up the shirt.

Frances raised a brow and smiled. “Won’t you be hot with those clothes? It’s 82 degrees outside.”

“Only weak people don’t dress like this on summer,” He replied, rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. “So, what do you think? Do I look handsome?”

She made a nose laugh. “As much as a young man with a wrinkled and buttoned wrong shirt.”

“I had no time to iron it. So now, if you may excuse me…”

But she took him by the shoulders and withheld him inside the bathroom with the strength of who carries books and papers to grade all day here and there. “No son of mine is going outside looking so deplorable! Do you want everyone to think you don’t have mother?”

“Mom!” He stirred in between her arms. “I don’t see why you find this amusing, but I really don’t want to be late!”

“…Yeah… You know, you can call Eric and just tell him you’ll be a little late. He’ll understand for sure.”

“No way. If I hate something is being late to places, plus I won’t give that guy the pleasure of teasing— WHAT ON EARTH YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, FRANCES LANE?!”

She had already unbuttoned half of the shirt, and slapping her son’s hands away, finished her job and peeled the cloth off him.

“Mother! I can’t go outside half naked!”

“Well, too bad. Now fix your hair properly. I’ll iron this for you.”

“But I still have just thirty five minutes to cross the city.”

“I’ll take you to the damn fair. Now, for every sacred page of this world, calm down and get ready!”

She stormed outside, leaving a confused Dante looking at the closed door for a moment, though he followed her orders and fixed his honey brown hair the best he could (in spite he hadn’t washed it today).

This time, he made sure to apply the deodorant he had completely forgotten before and practically sliced downstairs, tripping on the rug. He managed to get alive to the laundry room when Frances was just finishing with the last sleeve.

He put it on again, verifying twice that the buttons were on the right buttonholes. Frances gave him her approval and they both ran to the garage.

“Do you have everything?”

“Wallet? Yes. Phone? Yes. Keys? Yes,” Dan listed, palpating the pockets of his pants to check on every item. “I guess that’s all.”

“And where will you carry the books you purchase?”

“Oh, right. My bag! Where did I put it…?”

“In the kitchen, boy.”

 

Five minutes later they were on the road with the air conditioner at full.

“Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to wear a shirt. I’m already sweating.”

“ _«Alejandra’s mom always had the reason.»_ Isn’t that what you wrote?”

“Huh? What are…”

Dante realized several seconds after. That line, that specific line, had been extracted from the latest chapter of the story he had been publishing on the web since last year. He had collected quite a good amount of readers by now, but would have never suspect on finding one on his own house.

“Please, I beg of you. Tell me you aren’t reading  _«The Cat’s Tail.»_ Please.”

“Oh, dear son, what kind of mother would I be if I didn’t know about anything you write?” She said, gesturing sufficiency with one hand while holding the steering wheel with the other.

Dan’s mouth and eyes fell wide open, contorting his face in a horror grimace. He immediately buried it in his hands, hopping it was all a dream.

“Why did you read it? Why did you say nothing?! It’s so embarrassing! There… there are sex scenes in there, for God’s sake!”

“There are sex scenes in there?”

He froze. “…what?”

“It was just one of my students who was telling his friend about the story during class. He was so annoying I asked him to share it with everyone; he actually did it, though. I looked up for it on the internet later and recognized your username, but I haven’t actually read it… yet.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY YET?!”

“What, you say. You’re famous among my literature students! How could I not read it!”

“The perverted thoughts of your son are there! Please, let me keep at least some of my dignity!”

“Eh…?” she complained, yet always attentive to the road. “But those are important scenes as well. What’s the point if one can’t even explain things how they really are? I thought I had taught you that already.”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Just promise me you’re using protection.”

“CHRIST! I am a virgin, I swear to God!”

“Shouldn’t you be ashamed of saying that? You are sixteen already. And you have Eric eating of the palm of your hand.” She objected.

The boy was more than upset. Not only because the conversation had taken that kind of turn such of a sudden, or that the air conditioner didn’t seem to be doing anything for him; but that last comment had just freaked him out. Badly.

“WHAT?! Eric is not a pet, mother. And I would like to keep things slow, thank you very much. So whatever, read the damn story if you want, internet is free, but I beg of you, don’t ever say such a thing about my soul mate again. And whether I’m sixteen or eighty, it’s none of your business when I start with my sexual life.”

Frances fell silent. Dan’s blood was boiling. He was certain his cheeks were very red and his hair was a whole mess again. _‘How dared she? I know she’s my mother and I love her, but… How dared she?!’_ The silence was absolute on the car, except for the buzzing of the air conditioner and the combustion process inside the engine. But Frances wasn’t known for her quiet periods. _‘Fuck.’_

“I… I’m sorry, mom,” he sighed. “I shouldn't have yelled to you.”

The woman kept quiet for a long moment, as if hesitating on what to say. “Don’t worry, Dan. I guess I crossed the line there, but I’m just worried for you. You know… I’m happy that you’ve got someone who loves you so much, but… when he’s the same gender as you… I’m scared of the social pressure you might have to deal with.”

_‘So it was that… Ugh, I’m an idiot.’_

“Mom… you must not worry for that. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? You never know if…”

“Of course I’m sure. I can get over anything,” He assured. “If I couldn’t, I would have been born with good luck.”

That made her giggle. “I guess you’re right... but I still wanted grandchildren.”

“What?!”

 

Frances left him on the town square. The event he had been waiting all year was this little book fair hosted by the mayoralty and the local libraries to exchange and sell second hand books. It was hold at the biggest public market of the city, and always welcomed lots of people, mostly students. This year wasn’t the exception.

Eric was sat on the base of the fountain, waiting for him. _‘Shit.’_

“Hey!” Dan got an attack of cuteness and tried to call his attention while he rushed to him, all smily. “I’m sorry I—” Buuut, as nothing comes out right when you need it the most, he didn’t see that one of the cobbles (which where exclusively around the fountain) protruded over the rest and tripped on it graciously.

_‘What the hell was I thinking...’_

Eric helped him stand up. “Are you ok?” He asked, obviously struggling to contain the giggles.

“Yes, thank you.” Despite the kindness of his voice, the boy jabbed Eric right under the ribs. “Don’t you dare to laugh at me. I won’t tolerate that kind of behavior from you ever again.”

As a strangled sound came out of his throat, Eric grabbed the damaged side of his torso, attempting to protect it from a possible second attack. “Had a bad morning?” He asked, still with clogged air between the vocal chords.

“Yeah, sort of. My mom worries too much sometimes.”

“Ah, mine too.”

“And me as well. Have you lost weight?”

Normally, it would be a bit tougher to reach Eric’s thoracic cage under skin and muscle, but this time Dan had found almost nothing in the way. “Are you starving yourself?!”

“What? No! I just don’t do that much exercise on summer break. You know, since there are no club activities.”

“Oh. I see. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize” He ruffled his hair. Apparently Eric loved to do that… way much.

Dan took his hand off from his head and led him into the crowd.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, guys. Another short chapter since I've got really short time lately. I'll try to publish a complete chapter before the month ends, but I can really promise nothing.  
> Just know that I'm not dead and that I thin about this fic aevery day, I just don't have that much chances to write it. Sorry, guys. I love you all. (^-^)/

The market wasn’t as fresh or didn’t look as colorful as the other days of the year, yet, it was paradise. People gathered around the different tents, which were organized by genres. The air was heavy and warm, and smelt like old and musty paper. As the day advanced and got closer to noon the irreverent heat wouldn’t get any better.

Dan kept wandering through the periodically decreasing amount of people while Eric followed him closely to avoid losing him in the crowd. The taller boy thought it would be better if he could grab Dan’s hand, but it didn’t seem the best idea since his own hand was covered in sweat due to the hot air. Dan’s hands were always sweaty, though.

The few opportunities they had had to walk hand in hand hadn’t last long, for Dan was always apologizing for his sweaty palm. He’d said he suffered of Hyperhidrosis, and that it didn’t have cure. Even when Eric claimed he didn’t cared at all, Dan would insist on Eric letting go of him. Eric used to smile and just indulge his boyfriend, but that actually made him uneasy.

 “Eric? Is everything alright?” The boy blinked out of his thoughts and looked up. “You were spacing out,” Dan explained.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Then, what did I just say?”

“Errr…” Eric looked aside and crossed his arms. “Fine, I was spacing out. Sorry. Do you mind to repeat it?”

Dante didn’t seem to give it much importance. “I was telling you that over there’s a science section. They might have something interesting for you?”

They walked dodging the multitude until they reached an almost empty stand. The girl at the other side of the table, whose face glowed green under the emerald sunshine filtered on the tent over their heads, smiled flatly, showing her completely bored face. Immediately she dropped her gaze back to the nutrition book on her lap.

“What kind of book would you like?” Dan asked, starting to check the volumes around.

“Cardiology would be fine. If there’s any.”

They both rummaged through the books (Dan mumbling quietly), picking up the volumes, inspecting them vaguely and putting down again the ones they weren’t interested on. Or at least that’s what Eric felt he had been doing until he felt some intense eyes glancing up at him.

“Eric? You alright?”

Eric darted his neck to the side, towards Dante, yet avoiding his eyes purposefully.

“You have been looking at that book for ten minutes and your knuckles are white from the grip. What’s wrong?”

The taller boy cursed silently those sharp observation abilities (despite his bad far sighting). “Nothing is wrong. Don’t worry,” Eric stated nonchalantly, pushing up his best smile. Dante said nothing, limiting to snatch the book from his hands and pay it quickly before Eric could complain. Dan tossed the sturdy cardiology dictionary to the air, Eric catching it heavily.

“Tell me about it when you’re ready. That’s what I’m here for.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the delay and thankful for your patience. I worked hard on this chapter. I hope you like it. (^-^)
> 
> Oh, It's been a year already, huh? Time certainly flies away.

By the sunset they were heading back home submerged in awkward silence. Dan was struggling really hard to hide his bad mood while Eric walked with his eyes fixed on his shoes. Such alienation had the thoughts on the jock’s mind, that Dante had to take him out of the way of posts, traffic signals and people often so he wouldn’t end up on the ground with a concussion.

The shorter boy would have preferred to start a conversation or something but he doubt he was able to open his mouth without spiting a rumble of curses; plus Eric didn’t look exactly capable of keeping track of what he’d said.

They had covered around half of the way when they turned a corner of the suburbs and saw a familiar car coming down the street. The vehicle stopped beside them. The driver shot a stern look at the couple.

“Dad?”

Indeed, James Henson was coming back home from doing the super when, much to both boys delight, appeared like a gift sent from who knows what benignant god offering a ride home. Coming back from the maze his mind was at the moment, Eric considered refusing being in the same car as the man —remembering their last encounter and the clear display of disgust toward him— and immediately dropped the effort off as Dante was already pushing him on the back seat and closing the door.

The three kept on strict silence, saving the short words to give James directions to the Richmond’s house. More than few times the jock glanced away from the window to the windshield to find Dan’s father glaring at him on the rearview mirror and felt his gut sink. Once they arrived, Eric had to fight the silly urge to give Dan even the slightest squeeze of hand before thanking Mr. Henson, wishing them a good night and hopping down the vehicle.

“I still don’t like that guy.” James almost grunted as soon as Eric’s back had disappeared inside the house.

“You don’t need to like him,” Dan pointed out with complete composure, as if that was the biggest truth of the universe. The man put the car back on march.

“Of course I do. The father’s word is absolute when it comes to relationships.”

“Yeah? Well, you never had problems with Beth.”

“Beth is a really sweet girl.”

“She cheated on me.”

The man peered at his son on the mirror to find Dante observing him attentively. James looked back to the road.

“…I don’t see why this would be better than her.”

Dan’s brow twitched. “Dad, no offense, but for the umpteenth time. Eric is my Soul Mate.” The boy dragged the syllables the slightest on the last two words for emphasis. “He’s not some kind of whim I woke up one day having. Things just happened and I’m fairly happy with it.”

_‘Although he won’t tell me what’s wrong even if I begged him to.’_

“But you’ve been dating for two months already. He’s a guy. Isn’t it time for you to open your eyes?”

“No. Two months is not nearly enough to realize of anything. Take Beth, for example. We dated almost a year and, guess what, I found her on a coffee shop french—kissing another guy. And I was a fool for thinking she had loved me when I came to discover that wasn’t the first time she had these kind of… experiences with people while calling herself my girlfriend.”

“You were fourteen.”

“So? Does that make it less of a disrespect for my person or my feelings?”

“You are only sixteen.” The man sighed and shifted the position of his hands on the driving wheel, grasping it tighter.

“When did you meet mom, again?”

James kept silent.

Seeing his father wasn’t going to answer the question, Dan asked another one. “And what if I’m only sixteen? We can always break up if we see things won’t work out. It’s not like we’re fettered or something.”

_‘Well, we are, in a sense.’_

“Can you promise me that?”

“What?”

“Can you promise me you won’t surrender to this relationship just because of... destiny?”

Dan took a little consideration on the man’s words.

“Yes.”

He knew people still didn’t understand much about the Incandescence, and who’d dare to blame them. It wasn’t only the rarity on the phenomenon occurrence (approximately six in a hundred thousand), but the ambiguity of the circumstances, which were not even close to be comprehended by any kind of science prodigy.

By now no one —not even Sam, who hadn’t pushed the matter at all— knew what had happened on the locker rooms on that April’s afternoon. Dan was certain _no one_ had the necessity to receive such information. The data of his particular case had been replayed at least a million times on his head and though some little things had started to become foggy, the important parts were still intact and vivid. That left the bespectacled boy with some pretty defined concepts of his own perception of the facts and his feelings about them.

James had it wrong. It was not destiny what kept him tied to his soul mate, nor was the bond that grew profounder by the day. Dan himself was very marveled once he realized it. He actually _liked_ Eric. Not like the sudden crush he got in one day and that he still couldn’t explain, but he actually had grown fond of him with the time. Eric had showed effectively a completely different side of him and Dan found it quite charming and nice to be with. Now he couldn’t help but wonder how good it would have been if things had gone like this since the beginning. But his father didn’t need to know that much.

James sighed in a heavy mix of frustration and relieve. “Okay,” was all he replied.

The car, long ago parked at the garage, bounced a little when James opened the door and came down. Dan took a few plastic bags and imitated his father. No more words at the subject were exchanged between them since they both were mulish enough to keep it up for hours, and France was probably already asleep on her desk, so better not waking her up.

Dante, despite keeping it cool a lot better than an hour ago, wasn't feeling the slightest little bit calmer. Once the groceries were unpacked and kept on their respective places, the boy went up the stairs languidly and fell on his bed with a thud.

 

After a few minutes of laying on the mattress, mulling over and over again Eric's attitude during the day, he somehow came to the conclusion that his boyfriend wasn't only not telling him something, but that he was intending on keeping it a secret. Dan's heart sunk a bit.

Feeling like the tiniest of the beings in the whole universe for no apparent reason —other than the guilt of not having insisted more on knowing what the hell was wrong—, he got up, changed onto pajamas and made an utterly failed attempt to rest just to get up again five minutes later. Once his pores were briefly refreshed with the tepid water that came on a thin gush from the sink, he stared at his reflexion on the bathroom mirror for an eternity.

He looked fairly normal outside, yet felt sick, drained of energy. There was no fever or muscle pain, no allergy signs either. He decided he was only a victim of exhaustion caused by the marathon they launched in between the book market and walking back home from the opposite end of the city because all buses were replete and the metro wasn't an option on this agonizingly suffocating summer.

_'I just have to rest. It'll be better in the morning.'_

* * *

 

He woke up gasping for air, a clutching feeling on his chest.

The faint sound of a radio on the contiguous room indicated him it was past 4 a.m. and Frances was already rummaging through her paperwork. No memory nor vestige of having any sleep had attached to Dan the moment he found himself dizzily vigilant in between shadows and covered in sweat. Despite the full opened window the heat on the room was damp and stifling. Panic rose to his nerves as soon as he couldn't breathe normally anymore and his vision went foggy for a moment. He tried to call up for help, but his throat wouldn't articulate any other sound than a dead sigh.

Dante got to his feet and the world spun around him. He grasped the edge of the nightstand seeking a solid hold and grunted as pain washed over his shoulder. The boy made an incredible effort trying to put his glasses on and making a beeline towards the door, not lacking the occasional stumble with his own feet.

The corridor was dark and significantly fresher than his own room. His head cleared little by little as he followed the wall towards the studio. The path had never felt so eternal before.

_'Am I gonna die?'_

He had to hold for dear life to the door's knob in order to avoid collapsing in the middle of Frances' studio's threshold. No noise came from the hinges.

“Mom...” The word came strangled from his throat. It was the sound of his heavy and unsteadily breathing what alerted the woman of his presence.

She ran to her son, whose legs had finally given up force, sending the boy directly to the floor.

“Dan! What's wrong?!” She cried out as she knelt beside him.

“I—I don't know...” He said with inexplicable heavy tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I'm calling an ambulance. Wait here.” The woman attempted to stand up. Before she got to her feet, Dante grabbed the edge of her shirt. “No”, he said, gasping briefly. “It's not that...”

Frances looked at him, her eyes desperately calling for an explanation for her lips were unable to form words for a second.

“It's like... like it wasn't me. Feels... distant.”

“Distant? What are you—” She frowned deeply then whispered more to herself than to him, “It's not your pain...”

Without missing a single heart beat Dante was lifted in the air, carried to the living room and left on the sofa. Frances turned the air conditioner to the max and disappeared few moments to come back with a variety of items on her arms. “What are you doing?” The woman said nothing. He then was wrapped in a thick wool blanket, feed a spoonful of creamy deliciousness pistachio ice cream and almost drowned in the contents of a water bottle.

“I can feed myself, mom!” He replied, taking the bottle away from his mouth. Within seconds, his breathing was back to normal. _'What the actual fuck?'_

“Did something happen between you and Eric? Did you guys fight?” She asked, grabbing his shoulders firmly. He contained a whimper.

“No... but he was acting all weird yesterday. Didn't want to tell me what’s wrong...”

Her face suddenly became somber. That scare him a little. “Dante, look... I didn't know how true this is, and I refused to believe it, but... I heard it from your aunt once... There's some soul mates who are able to feel the pain of one another.”

The boy looked at his mother in absolute confusion. “What?”

“If those hearsays are true, you're feeling this just because Eric's feeling it.”

 _'Eric… just like…?'_ Dan blinked a couple times. He was almost sure to know what was going on. Eric couldn’t, _shouldn’t_ be alone at the moment.

“I have to see him. Now.” Dante stepped out of the blanket.

“Hang in there, boy.”

“No way. I must—”

“Wait. Dante!” Called his mother, grabbing him by the wrist.

“I can’t abandon him. He needs me!” He retorted, shaking her off.

Frances managed to push him back in the blanket. “Now it’s not the best moment. And you're feeling a bit better, aren't you? You're both connected through a bond. If you calm down enough, he'll be reassured as well. The best thing you can do right now is to breathe and keep calm. As soon as the sun's raised I'll take you to his home.”

Dante looked down. No. He couldn’t stay there doing nothing. He didn’t want to be indifferent anymore. He had been so for two years already. Now was time to act, if not for himself, for Eric, at least. But his mother was right. If Dan could avoid Eric more pain than necessary, he had to calm down.

When he nodded his head, a single tear fell onto the wool.

“Are you... bleeding?” The woman was looking at her blood stained hand in slight horror. Dante glanced at his sore shoulder. The fabric had a thin stain of red. Frances peeled it off to reveal the torn skin.

“This scar... How did you do this?”

“I— I...” His throat became dry as sand paper. “It was a silly accident.”

Frances pursed her lips. “We gotta get to Eric's immediately.”

“But you were just saying—”

“Eric's injured.”

 

Once in the car the boy wasted no time dialing the phone number he already knew by heart. Eric didn't pick up.

 **DAN.T.:** ERIC! ANSWER ME, PLEASE. ARE YOU ALRIGHT? I'LL BE THERE IN FIVE MINUTES.

Dante dialed another number he had to learn by heart just in case of emergency. This was a big one.

“Hello?” Called the feminine voice at the other end of the line.

“Mrs. Richmond. I'm really sorry to bother you this early, but... uh... I— Well. Eric's—”

“Have you talked to Eric today?”

“No, miss. He doesn't answer. Is he alright?”

The woman was silent for a moment. “Well, no. Actually no.” Dante heard her take a sharp breath. “Eric... Eric's been locked on his room crying for fifty minutes. He won't open the door to me and I'm dead worried by now. I was wondering if you have any clue about this? Did... did you guys break up?”

If Dante didn't knew better, he would have said her voice had just cracked the slightest bit. His world felt like falling apart.

* * *

 

The boy was knocking on the distinctive red door few minutes later. Margaret opened it and let him and his mother in.

“Hi, boy. Miss.”

Dante quickly introduced Frances and the three of them were climbing up the stairs within seconds.

Margaret didn't know much about what was going on. She told them hurriedly she had woken up startled when she heard a loud crash on the top floor. The woman tried to check on her son but he wouldn't answer her over the quiet cries she could hear through the door.

“Eric, honey?” She said as soon as they reached the barrier to a sobbing Eric. “Dante is here.”

There was no response.

“Isn't there a spare key?” Dante asked starting to feel desperate. His shoulder was no longer bleeding but still itching in pain. His breath picked up the pace a little bit and tears were forming behind his eyes.

Margaret shook her head.

“Then... do you mind if I pick the lock?”

“You can pick locks?” Both women said in unison.

“Yes. Basic writer skills.” He said matter of factly and waving a hand in a dismissive gesture.

Margaret brought some hair pins Dante had asked for. The pins were bent warily —one at the top forming a hook and the other separating the metallic arms in a right angle—  and introduced on the key hole. Dan's hands were trembling just enough for the women not to notice. He listened carefully until the five pins of the standard lock had clicked and he could push the door open. He hid from Margaret the fresh stain of blood on his shirt gingerly as he peered his head inside.

On Eric's bedroom reigned the chaos. There were glass shreds all over the floor around the nightstand. Eric was sat over the broken glass, blood flooding from his knees and legs from slight bruises. A hood pushed up his head. Dan could barely contain a whimper as his heart clenched. Hard.

“I'm sorry,” he said to their mothers. “I'd like to talk to him for a moment. Do you mind giving us some space?”

They nodded —the lawyer more reluctantly than the teacher— and allowed him to get in and close the door behind him.

“Eric.” Dante called out. A flood of pain ran his shoulder, this one a lot deeper. His heart hurt, tears threatened to roll down his eyes and shivers ran down his spine. Eric made himself tinier and suppressed a snivel. That was all the bespectacled boy could take.

Dante hurried to the hooded figure now was his boyfriend and sat right in front of him, not minding the broken glass bellow. Eric buried his face on his knees even more.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Dan required softly.

“You weren't supposed to know...” Eric's voice sound hoarse and muffled against his knees.

“I'm your soul mate, Eric; I would have known one way or another.”

Eric kept quiet. Dante noted his breathing steadying once again.

“Please, talk to me. Don't keep this in anymore. Get rid of it. It'll gnaw you from the inside if you don't. Please, forgive yourself,” he pleaded.

Eric took a deep breath after a long silence. “I can't. God. I'll never do that.”

“Why not?”

“...You know, the Incandescence took me completely by surprise. I wasn't sure what to do with myself after that. I knew you would never trust me, far less love me back, and I wouldn't ask you to. Not after all I've done to you. I... I tried to get away and leave you to live your life happily, but then you said you liked me and I refuged on your kindness. I avoided my responsibilities because I was way too comfortable being with you and… I don’t want to hurt you anymore…I’m sorry… I’m really sorry, Dante. I’m sorry…”

“Hey.” Dante crawled slightly until he was sat by Eric, as close as he could get. A nice wave of whatever it was that thing that happened when they touched sometimes was spread across their bodies. “That’s  fine, dear. It’s okay to be afraid.”

Eric, at last, looked up at him. His eternal frown had turned upwards and the marks of dried tears were all over his cheekbones.

“Look,” Dante continued. “I also get afraid sometimes. I’ve thought this might not work as well as I’d like it to, but you know what? I want to give it as many shots as necessary. I want to make it work. Will you help me out?”

“But…”

“We’ve been dating for two months. That’s not much time, is it?” The boy waited ‘till Eric shook his head. “So we still barely know each other, but let me ask you something: Are you dating me just because of a biological phenomenon? Just because fate decided we looked good together?” Eric hurried to negate such a statement. “Then, how’d you feel if I were gone?”

The jock looked down. “Terribly sad.”

“Well, there you go.” Dante said, taking the hood off his head gently. Eric didn’t move an inch. “I’m just as you. I’d be broken if you were gone. So please, forgive yourself, because I need you to help me carrying this on. I don't want to lose it, I don't want to go back to the old days. Please, Eric, _help me forget_.”

Now they both were crying, slowly. Dan embraced Eric tightly in his arms.

“Dante, I... Do— Do you really think I can do something like that?”

“If it's not you, then who?” He whispered. “There's no way I can do this by myself.”

Eric buried his face on Dante's unhurt shoulder, squishing the tiny body closer to his own.

“I'm so sorry.”

“I know. I can feel the pressure on your heart.”

Eric came apart to look into his eyes. “You do?”

“Yeah. Also, your pain. My shoulder is bleeding because you are. My heart aches because yours do.”

“What...? What do you mean?”

“I've been informed of some rumors. Apparently, there are some mates that can feel the pain of one another. I thought I’d die this morning. And the scar of my shoulder started bleeding when your knees did, I presume.”

“Scar?”

“The last scar you gave me.” When he saw it, Eric remembered. Around two weeks before his Incandescence had taken place, Eric had shoved Dante against his opened locker (as many, many times before) and the sharp corner of the metallic door had made a stupidly shallow scratch that had managed to stay visible forever. “You also have one, I'm afraid.”

Eric blinked a couple of times. The residual tears fell down his eyelids and Dante cleaned them, merely touching his skin. “I don't have any scars on my shoulders.”

“Didn't I dig my nails on your arm the day we went to the amusement park?”

“Oh.”

It was a thin and white arc on Eric's skin, the one Dante's thumb had left, the only one that had bleed a slightly bit the night Eric came back from their first date, the only mark that remained there.

“I'm sorry, by the way. I wasn't meaning to give you that.” His forehead thudded slightly with Eric’s.

“It’s okay, nerd.” For the very first time, the word came genuinely loving from Eric’s lips and Dan couldn’t help but blush a bit. Eric kissed him softly and leisurely. Dan’s blush had deepened by the time they came apart.

“Let's get up, okay? I’ll bandage your legs, you silly giant. And don't even try to refuse, it also hurts for me, so I would like a little relief.”

“Dante... I— I'm really sorry for causing you so much trouble...”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” he said, throwing a hand in the air. “Don't you know we writers live up from trouble?”

And with that, Dante left his boyfriend sat on the bed, still with the warm of his lips on Eric's forehead, a promise of coming back in a minute and a threat for if he started thinking sad stuff again.


	21. Chapter 21

The ring of the metal strings resonated deeply into his ears and down his spine. He watched carefully as Russell’s hands carried his fingers all over the guitar, making sounds here and there on the strings and the wood. Some strong, some soft or dry. The song wasn’t hectic as anything you heard those days, yet not less complex.

There was no voice accompanying the tunes. Russell had earnestly refused to sing along his song as the shyness dusted his cheek bones with pink. “I sing terribly,” he had argued. This surprised Sam ―though not immensely― since he barely got to see his outgoing and apparently overconfident boyfriend acting bashfully. But he knew better. By now, even if their time together was still to be considered brief, he had seen through some of Russell’s facets and discovered insecurities below the sparkle.

Russell always ran his hand through his hair when he was anxious, which was often, for he felt self―conscious and abashed easily. Sam found surprising that Russell was worried constantly when he looked so held together, but then again he remembered he himself appeared to joyful all the time.

_‘It’s easy to hide behind a smile.’_

However, the little boy, whose head rested on Sam’s crossed leg, had no problem humming to the melody rather energetically. Despite his brother, the child was yet to be ripped of the characteristic innocence of the first years of life; and he well demonstrated so with pure cheerfulness emitting out of his pores at the tiniest and most insignificant thing.

_‘Was I ever like this?’_

Sam now knew that the chills running down his spine at that moment where due to his brain sending hormones throughout his systems. He detested not remembering the last time he felt happiness out of just being himself, but loathed more that his brain had to cheer itself up in order to not being shut down. He pushed the thought aside, forcing the ring of the metal strings through his ears, into his mind.

The music drew a faint picture around him which he constructed piece by piece. Warmth, meadows tall enough to cover to his hips, gray clouds cleared up by the sun above and no other sound but the wind howling in his ears.

The child hummed again, and laughed once the song met its end.

“That was great, brother!”

“You liked it?” Russell said, grinning nonchalantly at the boy, ever trying to look cool in front of him. The kid new better too.

“Yes, very much.” He also knew Russell liked being complimented.

“Connor’s right. That was impressive.”

“Of course it was.” Russell joked.

The boy jumped from Sam’s lap and started bouncing on the bed, stopping at the teenagers’ protests, but not less excitedly he said, “You know what would be awesome?! You know?! You could teach me to play too!”

“Oh, you wanna learn?”

“Yeah! And then we could play together and sing horribly together and! And! Guess what?!”

“What?” They both said in unison.

“Get some girls! I mean boys for you, but I could get a pretty girl! Or a pretty boy too!”

Sam was amazed of how much kids knew these days, and how tolerant they could be, unlike most adults.

“Woah, buddy, slow down. I’m not looking for boys. I already have one.” Russ chuckled a bit as he rounded Sam’s shoulders.

“Really? So you two are dating? Do you, like… kiss and hold hands?”

“That’s right,” Sam declared.

The 7 year-old narrowed his eyes a bit. “And does it make you happy?”

“Yes. We’re soulmates.”

“Like mom and dad?!” His face went immediately brighter.

Russell seemed to tense a bit, as if being suddenly cornered. “No, Connor,” he offered. “Mom and dad were lovers, but they weren’t soulmates.”

“So is that why she left?”

Sam could feel Russell panicking at once. The child, covering his mouth, blurted a quick apology and ran out of the room. They could hear the banging next door a moment after.

Sam turned to the boy beside him, catching the hand that wasn’t holding the guitar in his.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t planning to tell you that way…” Russell sighed.

“You don’t have to if you’re not ready. It’s okay.”

“No, I want to.” Russell put his guitar ―Janine― aside. “My mom, she left us four months ago. She didn’t die. She just left. She said she couldn’t bear having a homosexual son.”

Sam was completely shocked. The mother of his boyfriend have left her two children and husband because Russell was gay. Just because her firstborn was gay.

“I don’t mind myself,” Russell continued, “it does not change who I am. I had long ago come to terms with my homosexuality to deny it. But it breaks my heart how much it affects Connor. He’s so young. He doesn’t understand why she’s not here anymore or why our parents fought constantly.

“My mother said horrible things the day she left. Thankfully, dad had taken Connor out of the house. I didn’t know such rage could build up in such petite woman. I didn’t care one bit what she said to me. We never were very close. But Connor… she was a good mother to him.

“Dad has been amazingly supportive to both of us. I help with as much as I can, but it’s rough. He lost his wife because of me and―” At this point his voice cracked, but he continued immediately, “and Connor has no longer a mother.”

Sam held him tight, until their bodies where so pressed together it almost ached. He waited for Russell’s breath to steady, but not even then did he have the heart to let go of him. He talked in his ear instead, softly, yet not a whisper. “It’s not your fault. You know it.”

“But if… if I had…”

“…turned straight?” Sam conceded, “That would have caused far more damage, because it wouldn’t have worked.”

“I know.” Russell clung to him even harder, burying deeper in his shoulder. “Damn it, I know, I know,” he hissed. “It wouldn’t be true…”

“Look, Russ. I don’t know your mother, but I know that you can’t please everyone and some of those people may go away, but that doesn’t mean you’re alone. There are plenty of people by your side that love you.”

Russell breathed a couple of times. “You’re right.”

“And that’s what we must help Connor understand. No matter what, we’re by his side.”

A short silence set between them. One that was covered by the buzz of their heartbeats in their ears.

“Can you promise me something?” Russell whispered to his chest. “Can you promise me you will always be sincere with me? That no matter what, you’ll tell me anything?”

Sam’s went pale at once. He could feel the red heat under his skin being drained down. He bit his lip, caressed Russell’s nape, squeezed him softly. “Even if I consider that not to be the right choice? Even if I were to lie and hide things in order to protect you?”

“Yeah. Can you promise that?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then yes.”

“Then let’s start now. Do you think I’m weak?”

“What? No. Idiot.”

“Sam?”

“Hm?”

“I think I might love you.”

He couldn’t hold back anymore. This is not how he had planned this to go, and he felt utterly horrendous for having planned it in the first place. But he knew from the start that if this day ever came such pressure would be laid on his breast; that his air would be scarce, that his eyes would overflow in tears and he wouldn’t know whether they were caused by the pulsing pain in his chest or the void in his head or the smile on his lips. Maybe them all or maybe because his brain malfunctioned that way. But the feeling was there and he could no longer contain it.

He didn’t know what to do with himself, so he just let the tears flow in Russell’s shoulder as he already had until he could speak again, just what came out his throat was barely a breath so only Russell and Russell alone could hear it.

Russell held him now, prevented and encouraged him to pass out from the overwhelming feelings dueling inside of him at the same time. _‘I do not deserve you.’_

Can you shut up for once? Enjoy it. At least a bit. He’s been the first one. He knows you and still chose to love me. _‘Can I trust him?’_ Don’t you see he’s the only one I trust?

* * *

 

Sam found the kid sitting at the foot of his bed, dragging distractedly a blue car toy on the floor. The rain of slick black hair covered his eyes, but a whimper betrayed the fact he had been crying.

“Hey,” Sam prompted, not yet daring to step closer to the boy, not wanting to scare him. However, Connor put aside the few Legos around him, and made him space in the tiny, rainbow patterned rug. Sam sat down, staring at the wall.

 “I heard what my brother said,” Connor mumbled. “It’s true that mom left because she doesn’t love him?”

“I… I don’t know. I haven’t met her.”

“Maybe…” he sobbed, “she doesn’t love me.”

“I don’t think that’s the case. Russell told me she loved you very much. There’s no reason for her not to love you now.”

“She hasn’t called me. Doesn’t she miss me?”

Sam unvoiced the fact he did not know what to say. That she’d call? That she’d come back for him? He couldn’t have known, therefore it would have been utterly irresponsible of his part to make such promises to this kid, who was so fragile and exposed at the moment.

“I don’t know,” he said in all honesty, “but I can assure you something: no matter what happens, your father, your brother and me will always be by your side. For anything you might ever need.”

“Really? Anything?”

“Yes. We’re here for you.”

Connor, then, let out all the anguish that have been building up in his chest the whole time in a shaky, desperate whimper, which he attempted to suppress immediately, flying his hands to his eyes to wipe out the abundant tears. Sam, at last rendered to the impulse to pass his hand through the child’s hair, comforting him. “It’s okay, Connor. Cry all you need to.”

“But… boys don’t— cry.”

“Yes, we do.”

“Even you?”

“Oh, yes. I cry all the time.”

Connor sniffled his little nose, taking the fringe out of his moist eyes. “Why?” He asked.

Sam’s heart shook a bit; nothing he hadn’t learnt to control along these years. “Lots of things I’d prefer not to talk about right now. Maybe I’ll tell you some other day.”

“Promise?” Sam wasn’t keen of discussing his depression with a 7 year old child, but he couldn’t back off now, and who knew, maybe Connor would be able to learn that one lesson Sam still couldn’t quite grasp at such a young stage. It could be profitable if he handled it in the right direction.

“Promise,” Sam bowed.

Connor hugged him, or better, clung to him for few minutes, in which he carded the child’s soft hair just as Sam’s mother used to do with him at the same age.

Once Connor had calmed enough to breath normally they came down the stairs to find Russell nuzzling in the couch, lost in his thoughts. Connor sat beside him.

“Brother?”

“Hm? Yes?”

“Can we watch a movie?”

Sam smiled to himself.

“But of course. Which one?”

“Finding Nemo.”

“Again?”

“Yeah!” Their laugh was not crystal clear, not light as it should be, yet it eased the tension a little, which was always comforting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm sorry it took so much time for such a short chapter. I've been dealing with a lot of things during these months and I had so many doubts about this chapter I wrote it several times and always threw it in the trash. I'm glad I could finally post something for you guys. You'll hear more from me. (^-^)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it's been so long I pressume some of you will want to refresh your memory, so make sure to reread chapter 20, not 21 (which was about Sam and Russ), and then come back.
> 
> Last chapter, lads.
> 
> You're gonna excuse me for my little diversion.

Eric inhaled the warmth of the morning entering through the window, seeking peace as flashes of the previous night penetrated his senses. A vague ache underneath his skin, a feeble heave puncturing his stomach, the sting of the glass sinking in his knees. All but echoes dwelling in the air he breathed absently as he looked at the ceiling. He exhaled the exasperation in his lungs and noted the dense mass in his chest give in a little. Staring at his hand gave him something to distract himself from the cool rage licking like fire the ends of his nerves.

The weight on the mattress shifted beside him and he heard Dante's frustrated sigh along with the rustle of the sheets unwrapping from his arms.

Once Eric dared to move and turned around so he lay on his back, Dante's intent gaze fixed on him made him jump a little. He didn't seem to be looking at him, however.

"Dante?" he croaked. The boy blinked, focusing on him but still saying nothing. Eric noted his eyes looked slightly bigger without the glasses. Rather charming, he thought. "Is everything okay?"

"Sorry. I couldn't sleep at all," he murmured. "I had too much in my mind."

Eric sighed and looked at the ceiling. "Same."

In truth, Eric had been so exhausted after all the fuss he'd made, he had practically passed out as soon as he touched the pillow. Nonetheless, he was restless from uncertain, murky dreams. Once awake, he lay still, as deep in thought as Dante himself had been.

"I want to apologize about last night," said Dante suddenly, making Eric jolt a second time.

"Why?" He asked, looking back at him.

The boy barely blinked. "All those things I said... Even though I meant them, I think I didn't consider your feelings very much. Sorry about that."

A very scarce quiver brushed Eric's heart. A product of the bond, most certainly.

"No, that's... fine," he said, his voice almost shaking. "I just don't understand why you are so kind to me."

Dante kept silent for a while but sure enough, went on.

"I truly want to make this work, but if you honestly feel we should break up, I will understand. If this relationship hurts you I'd rather we part ways," he said, matter-of-factly. "Also, whether I forgive you or not is not your responsibility and I feel what I told you last night might have made you feel that way, so I'm sorry."

That hadn't occurred to Eric. He had been too busy musing on how crazy it was he could —to some extent— feel Dante's pain to further analyze what he had been told in his suicidal state. Not like much of the words had registered really.

Eric puzzled over the expression on Dante's face, for it was like stone at the very moment.

"Are you really willing to break up for my sake?" he asked, just to fill in the silence.

"Yes. If it does you good, then yes."

"Why?"

"Would you do the same for me?" asked Dante, softening his brows a little. "Would you give up on me if I told you it was hurting me?"

Unable to stop himself, Eric huffed. He felt almost insulted. "Of course!" He grumbled, "I've hurt you enough as it is! Forcing you would only make it worse... Still... I don't want to lose you. So it's up to you."

Dante simply nodded and placed his arm bellow his head. His coolness was starting to get on Eric's nerves.

"As I told you, I want to try it out. Make it work, if possible, of course. But again, if you decide to stop this, that's fine too. The point here is that we're both as comfortable as possible."

Eric looked at him carefully, partly to calm himself down, since no one would want him angry at the moment, and partly because the boy in front of him seemed so serious, so heedful of him.

"Is it selfish if I suggest we start again?"

The boy frowned, looking at the mattress and considering.

"Yes," he said at last. "I'd rather not keep ignoring the matter."

Eric bit his lip. Fool. Of course it was selfish. Dante said he wanted to forget, and Eric was trying to seek comfort in avoiding the consequences once again. He bit a little harder.

Dante closed his eyes for the briefest moment and sighed.

"Listen, we cannot change what happened and I'm not sure if I'll forget it, but every moment I spend with you, it seems more distant. You've changed," he said, finally banishing his frown. "You don't look at me with hate anymore and, as stupid as I might sound, I can't help but soften myself. I don't know if it's an effect of the bond or what but really, it doesn't matter now."

The boy smiled and Eric's chest fluttered with remorse.

"Dante, I..."

But Dante shook his head. "I know you are sorry, and I think it's time we get past this. It's not like it never happened, but I don't want to be stuck on it forever."

Eric moved on instinct, wrapping his arms around Dante in his awkward position. He ignored the tingling of his skin as he brought Dante closer. The boy relaxed, letting himself be pulled in.

Looking back, Eric amazed at how much he had wanted to bury himself in Dante's hair, to nuzzle him close and drown in his smell. He felt his heart quick up.

"How did you feel?" Said Eric, voice muffled against Dante's forehead. He had to front this for once and all. "Did I make you cry? Did I break your heart?"

Dante lay still, pondering it for a moment.

"Partly. I did cry and tried not to show it at home. I was good at that," he said sadly, pushing back to look at Eric directly in the eyes. Dante often had trouble making eye contact, but this time he held his gaze. "Maybe a little too good."

Eric wanted to look away but settled to brush Dante's cheek instead.

"I can't even imagine what I must have put you through."

"But my heart..." Dante continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "I wasn't alright all the time, but it never really got to break. I'm a strong guy."

"The strongest I know."

"No. Sam is the strongest you know." said Dante, huffing a little laugh.

Eric caressed Dante's nape, tugging lightly at his hair. "If you say so..."

To Eric's surprise, Dante moved further away.

"What were you thinking, though?" He demanded, raising his voice the slightest bit. "I know for a fact you can be very smart, but you couldn't have done anything more stupid. You don't go beat someone you like! Quite the opposite! Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I- don't know," said Eric.

"You don't know," said Dante, sitting up and crossing his arms.

Eric felt his heart sink. He sat up as well, but kept quiet, for he wasn't quite sure what to say. That only seemed to upset Dante even further.

"Gosh!" He grunted as he threw his head back into the pillow. "You're impossibly thick!"

Eric gulped. "I... I guess I was afraid? I... thought it was wrong and that you'd reject me," he said rubbing his knuckles.

"Idiot!" Dante snapped. "I would have considered it if you hadn't bullied me. You better thank the incandescence saved your sorry ass!"

Eric was baffled. He had never heard Dante raise his voice like that, much less been insulted by him, but frankly, he deserved it.

"You are in all your right to be mad at me."

Displeased wasn't the right word to describe the way Dante clenched his jaw. Frustrated? Disappointed? Bitter? He could not find the right adjective. Dante said nothing, which reaffirmed Eric's insecurities. His heart was uneasy and his scar itched.

"Are you truly willing to forgive me?" he asked, hobbling on his words.

"Eric," said Dante with scorn like venom dripping from the tip of his tongue. Eric shivered. "I came running last night thinking you could have died! I literally picked your lock to see you were alright! I know you feel bad —and you should." Dante came over to him and stabbed an accusing finger in his chest. "You hurt me deeply and I should hate you and I know you think so too! But why can't you see I'm trying to let it go?! Don't you trust my word?!"

Eric's mind took a leap, a split second lost in terror and discombobulated bewilderment. He felt hot shudders swirling under his scalp and prickles around his chest from Dante's anger.

"But why?" he asked stupidly, regretting it the moment it left his mouth.

"Why? Why?! It's because I care about you, you cussed fool!" By now Dante was shouting in his face. "I finally came to see the good person you really are and that I like you! Do I need another reason?!"

Eric didn't dare move a muscle. His hair could have been losing its reddish color just as easily as he felt his face paling.

Dante saw this and backed away, sitting right against the headboard of the bed. He breathed slowly until he calmed down enough to say: "Did I make myself clear?"

Eric, as startled as he was, felt the prickles give in and his thoughts settle back. But still found himself unable to speak.

"Don't look so scared. I'm sorry."

"I... I see," said Eric several moments later. "Thank you."

It was Dante's turn to be confused. "You thank me for yelling at you?"

"No. For caring so much about me. But-"

"I swear to god, if you ask again why I'm gonna throw a bucket of weed killer at your head."

Eric closed his mouth at once.

"I'm really sorry, okay? Are you feeling alright? You're still a little pale."

"I'm- surprised."

"Hm. How's your head? Does it hurt?  Your knees?"

"Are you hurting anywhere?"

"No. Just checking."

"I'm fine," said Eric in feeble voice. "Is... Is every morning going to be like this with you?"

"I hope not," said Dante. "It takes a lot to make me explode like that. You better not have a knack for it."

Eric hummed in agreement.

* * *

   
  
---  
  
 

"That was the last one!"

The door creaked as it closed roughly under his kick, followed by a crash and, a moment later, a multitude of books, CDs and pictures spread onto the floor.

Dante cursed as he let the box fall to his feet.

"You okay there?" Said Eric from the main room, giggling like a toddler.

"The bottom of the box decided to give in!" answered Dante.

"At least it wasn't in the middle of the stairway!"

Dante huffed and proceeded to place the box upside down, then toss the lost contents inside.

He had been quite excited for the move. They found a nice place near Eric's university so he didn't have to waste forty minutes of sleep to get home every night and forty more in the morning to get to his classes.

Their parents agreed to pay for it until they were able to sustain it themselves, which would have to wait for a while, since Dante wasn't likely to be payed much as an editor once he graduated and Eric still had a long way to go with med school.

But the freedom was worth it... to some extend. None of them liked cleaning very much nor were they exactly skilled in the kitchen, plus, most of the house work would be relegated to Dante, being that busy med student was barely home at all.

Dante didn't understand how his boyfriend managed, going to sleep and waking at ungodly hours of the morning. And he thought his classes were fastidious...

Luckily they still had about a month of summer left and the place would be all theirs to enjoy.

Laura, Eric's little sister, had promised to visit them from time to time and by that they knew she meant all the time since her school was only two blocks away. Dante was already dusting his old 7th grade math skills and Margaret had gifted them a cooking book, which he was putting away in the bilged box when he noticed a portrait frame laying on the floor. He picked it up.

It was simple, made of wood, painted white. The glass had cracked with the impact.

"Eric, what the fuck."

"What is it?!" Shouted the other, still busy with whatever he was unpacking.

In a gentle manner Dante traced his fingers along the cracked glass, which covered a wrinkled piece of paper with blue penmanship in it. "I can't believe you kept this."

"What thing?"

"And you framed it! That's the most romantic shit you've ever done!"

Eric peeked his head into the hallway. "More than two Christmases ago?"

"Absolutely."

"I must be great, then," he said as he came over, holding a pair of shoes in one hand and a towel in the other. "Oh, that. Well, I wasn't going to throw it away."

"But you framed it."

"You broke it."

Dan's jaw stiffened. "Sorry. I'll replace it later."

"Don't. It looks better now. Means it was in your hands."

"Hey, that's actually pretty mean. Why am I kind of flattered?" Dante cocked his head slightly. He knew Eric found it adorable for some reason. "Anyway, why would you frame this?"

"What's the big deal with you? And why not? It was the first nice thing I got from you. How was I not going to frame it?"

"Excuse you, it was the second nice thing."

"Nah. Our first kiss was really confusing."

"You think?" Eric just nodded. "Hm, yeah, I guess. But how about our second?" Dante said, coming close to him, the note in between them.

"How about our next?"

Eric kissed his grin with great care, as if he was afraid of breaking it. Dante loved that. Then he pecked the line of his jaw.

Something fell to the floor, and before he knew it, Eric had lifted him in the air. "Let me help you with that."

Eric deposited him on the bed as he giggled.

"You already made the bed? Impressive."

"It's a shame I'll have to do it again later," said Eric, placing himself on top of Dante.

"Oh," he said simply and couldn't hold the erupt of laughter rolling up his chest. Eric's face went bright red.

"W-what?" He babbled.

"Nothing. Is just..." Dante tried to stop in a futile effort to get a hold of himself, breathe some air. "The last time you tried to use that phrase Sam caught us and... And..." A new fit of laughter invaded him. "Your face! I had never seen you pale like that!"

Eric stood up. Dante just curled to his side, clutching his stomach. Eric closed the door.

"Happy?"

"Very much," said Dante, panting.

Eric sat back on top of him.

"Please, stop. That was a torturous moment for me."

"I know, it's just... You fell down the bed. And... And Sam! I could hear Sam losing it down the hallway!"

Eric took his glasses off and pinned his shoulders to the bed.

"Stop already. I want to kiss you."

But he couldn't stop, so Eric went to kiss his tears instead, then all of his face. Starting with his eyebrows and finishing at the birthmark right under his chin.

When Dante eventually pulled himself together he kissed Eric dearly on the lips, carding his hair.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mock you. I'm just really happy, knowing we've been together through all kinds of things."

Eric blinked, then narrowed his eyes. "That's bullshit."

Dante smirked. "Yeah, okay, maybe. I was mocking you a little. But I do it only because I love you."

"I don't believe a thing from a liar like you."

"Then your mom taught you well."

Dante kissed him deeper this time, rubbing little circles in Eric's nape and feeling him shudder under his touch.

When Eric went to slide a hand under his shirt, Dante stopped him.

"We still have to unpack. Everything has to be ready for tomorrow's party."

"What party?"

"Celebration for the move, of course. I told you last week, remember?"

"You did?"

Eyebrow twitching, Dante switched himself on top of him. It only worked because Eric wasn't expecting it. "So you haven't bought anything I asked you to get." he sighed. "We'll have to-"

"Later." Eric pulled him in, kissing his face, his neck.

Dante didn't protest.

.•:*¨♡ ♡¨*:•.

It was well past midnight when they emptied the last box and by the time they had showered and were tuck in bed it was almost two in the morning.

"Can you believe it?" Said Eric sleepily.

"That the rent is more expensive than your school fees? Certainly not. You work so hard for it."

"That we're living together."

"Let’s remember that when we’re fighting over toilet paper,” said Dante, just as sleepily. “If you had told sixteen-year-old me I was going to share a bed with you and kiss you goodnight I would have laughed in your face and say it would only happen over my frozen corpse."

"You forgot the part where you'd say you'd kill me before I even set foot into the room."

Dante chuckled, glad Eric had overcome his guilt enough to joke with him about it. Luckily they had the same awful sense of humor.

Well, maybe it was not luck after all.

"Should we get a kitten?" Dante mumbled.

"A puppy."

"Dogs are noisy and smell."

"Cats are coldhearted and destructive."

"Then a ferret."

"...Yeah, okay," Eric murmured.

He hummed something about the name they would give it, but Dante didn't catch it as he fell asleep in Eric's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yell at me all you want.
> 
> Thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Remember to check the wonderful work of [Zakuro-san](http://zakuro-san.tumblr.com/), the main author.  
> I apologize if there's any mistake on this work. I'll fix those eventually.


End file.
